


Life As A Sanders

by mediocrityatbest



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Other, Through the Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22086529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocrityatbest/pseuds/mediocrityatbest
Summary: Through the years of Virgil and Logan getting adopted by their Dad, Patton, and some of their major milestones in life.(ALSO, my Tumblr is @mediocrity-at-best and if you want to request me to write something for this verse(I do, in fact, have a list of events that occur that don't happen within these main chapters) head on over there and send a req! I'd be totally down to write more if anybody wants it!)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders & Deceit Sanders
Comments: 40
Kudos: 141





	1. The Adoption

**Author's Note:**

> This fic goes through the years of our main cast: Virgil, Logan, Patton, Roman, and Deceit (Dee). They're a family, and it is a mostly happy fic.
> 
> The focus will mainly be on Logan and Virgil.
> 
> I will put any relevant warnings at the beginning of each chapter.
> 
> This will be updated every Thursday, one day earlier than on Tumblr.

Patton couldn’t deny that he had a weak spot for kids. But really, who didn’t? They were so adorable, and eventually they got bigger - but still adorable! - and then you could hold conversations with them about such simple and mundane things that seemed so important to them. It was a nice break from the stresses of adult life, okay?

So, yeah, when Patton had been with a man he had thought was his soulmate, and when both of them wanted to adopt, they went for it. Why not? They loved each other, they loved kids, they were financially stable, and they both wanted the experience of raising kids and seeing them go through life, learning everything they could.

Everybody told them things changed when you brought kids into the mix. But they knew that! Of course it changed things! Sure, they would have different disagreements, different types of disagreements, but they still loved each other. They could still work things out. They could still compromise.

Until they couldn’t.

When they were talking about adopting, talking about the things that they would and would not accept in a child, there weren’t very many limitations. They agreed that no disorders would stand in the way. They were stable enough to be able to afford treatments or equipment, and Patton’s cousin Emile was a child psychologist. He dealt all different sorts of kids everyday and knew a lot about different disorders. If the pair fell in love with a kiddo who had special needs, they could ask Emile for help real time while they learned all about it on their own.

They had a small disagreement on age. Patton wanted to have it open to kids of all ages. The probability of older kids being adopted shrank with every year the child aged, and that wasn’t right. They should be open to older kids too, Patton insisted, because they were still kids. They were still young and in need of families. They still needed to be raised. They still needed to be loved.

Patton’s partner, however, wanted the experience of raising a child from infancy. It was part of the experience, he would retort. You’re not really raising them if they already have their own ideals and they’ve never even met you.

In the end, they agreed to have it open to all ages, but with a preference for the younger adoptees.

It didn’t quite sit right with Patton.

Looking back, Patton supposes that argument was one of the first warning signs.

However, they both agreed that gender was a non-issue. Who cared if the child was a boy or a girl? They were still a kid. Plus, the designation might not be accurate. The child could always turn out to be trans or nonbinary or agender or genderfluid or demigender or any other gender out there.

Since they agreed so heartily on that point, the previous argument was mostly forgotten.

Next was number of kids. Patton, as was his way, excitedly said that he would love to have as many children as they could afford. His partner laughed good-naturedly, and insisted that they should only start out with one. Like a trial run.

That didn’t sit very well with Patton either. They were talking about people, not apps. There was no free trial here.

Still, Patton pushed it aside. He’d heard other people use similar phrases when having their first kid, and he convinced himself that it was just one of those commonly used analogies nobody ever thought about the real implications of. They didn’t really think of their kids as a trial. Nobody would actually say that about their kids.

Patton had nodded slowly, though. It did make sense to start with just one. Get a feel for the job, learn how to handle the different things that having a kid can throw at you. This was especially important when adopting, because Patton didn’t ever want his kiddo to think they counted as less than someone who was biologically related to their parents, or think they weren’t good enough for their birth parents. And Patton knew that even if they did everything right, their baby would eventually have questions about who had them biologically. Who wouldn’t? It was a natural question.

Also, there was the hurdle of being a gay couple with kids. They would have to learn how to navigate all that, too. People were more accepting now, but not all people.

So, Patton could see where he was coming from, even if the phrasing of the concern was unfortunate.

However, Patton had insisted that they not entirely rule out having more than one kiddo. After all, he wanted to keep siblings together if he could. Patton didn’t know what he’d do if he hadn’t had Emile, his cousin who was more like a sibling, growing up. He didn’t want to deprive anyone else of that opportunity, either.

So, they had compromised again. Open to siblings, but preferring just one.

Most other things had been agreed upon. Race and ethnicity was irrelevant. Their reason for being given up didn’t matter. How long they’d been in the system didn’t matter. Behavioral problems didn’t matter. Birth defects didn’t matter. Any physical deformities didn’t matter.

Finally, after months and years of talk and forms and waiting, they were ready. The pair went from foster home to foster home, orphanage to orphanage, hospital to hospital, looking and meeting and talking to all the kids. There had been more than one that Patton’s heart had cried out for (or maybe more like all of them), but his partner had disagreed on most cases. There was one girl they were going to adopt, but they had talked it out first, to be sure, and she had been adopted by someone else instead.

After such a long time searching and not agreeing on kiddos, Patton was beginning to become hopeless. He wondered if maybe they’d jumped into this a little too fast. Were they ready for kids? Were they honestly prepared to deal with everything a kid could throw at them, all the unique challenges every kid presented, and figure out the different parenting styles they were likely to have if they couldn’t even agree on a child to adopt in the first place? It wasn’t rocket science, Patton knew.

It was something much more important, that required a much steadier hand.

It was a cloudy day when Patton’s partner woke him up, far too early. Patton, never the early waker, had been slow to come. But his partner had been excited. They had a visit to the hospital today, to see a bunch of babies that were still too young to go into the system, and he just knew that today was the day. His excitement was infectious so, with a quick kiss, Patton jumped in the shower and then let his partner cook him a nice omelet for breakfast.

Patton wasn’t much of a cook.

They reached the hospital right on time, and immediately a woman by the name Dr. Abioye showed the men into the ward. It was the same place the rest of the babies stayed, but the ones that were available for adoption had a green marking on the side of their little boxes. (Were they called boxes? Cradles? Bassinets? That had certainly not been covered in any class Patton had taken in preparation for this.)

“These babies are all six months old or less,” Dr. Abioye told them. “The green markings indicate that the parents, for whatever reason, have relinquished their rights. Some babies are kept here because they are sick and in need of intensive care, and others because they are newborn and the system prefers they be with trained professionals day and night rather than a foster family.” She smiled at them, then looked at the papers in her hands “I see here that you haven’t marked anything down as a hard no, so I will leave you to it. If you have any questions, I will be making my rounds in here as will the other nurses. Feel free to get to know our little ones.” With that final remark, Dr. Abioye began going around the room, cooing at the babies and tickling them, eliciting giggles and shrieks.

Patton’s partner suggested that they go alone, because he felt that it would be easier to see all the babies that way. Patton hesitantly agreed, and they split off to opposite ends of the nursery.

For the third time, it didn’t quite feel right to Patton that they split up. He wasn’t sure why, though, so he kept quiet, forgetting about his own problems as he got see all the babies.

There were big ones and small ones sleeping ones and crying ones and giggly ones. There were so many to choose from, and they were so small! Even the biggest baby there could easily be held in one hand. There was so much to take in, and there were so many different babies to look at.

For a second, Patton felt hopeless again. What if they could never choose? Worse, what if they did, and then found out they were horrible parents? What if they couldn’t do right by the little one they wanted to take home?

But Patton took a breath, and let it out, and then smiled down at a two week old adoptee. She was tiny, utterly miniscule, and absolutely having the time of her life. Patton was reassured, as that baby smiled at him, that he wanted kids and that he would do whatever he could to keep them happy and safe.

Patton kept walking along, looking at a few more cribs (Patton still didn’t know the right title, and cribs was close enough, right?)

Then, a little baby just started wailing. Patton hurried down a few cribs to find the little guy. Once Patton saw them, he couldn’t help but coo at them and picked them up. Patton bounced the baby up and down a few times, and it seemed to calm them a little. They kept having strange little hiccuping noises, but Patton figured that normal.

After a few minutes, the baby was entirely calmed down, no longer crying, and Patton gently set them back in the crib. Except, as soon as the baby felt the sheet of their tiny bed and not Patton’s hands, the crying immediately rose a few decibels. So, like any good father would do, Patton picked the baby back up, and kept shushing him, waiting for the crying to become sniffling and the that to become even baby breaths.

“You’re pretty good at that,” an unfamiliar voice said. Patton jumped, but turned slowly so he didn’t upset his baby.

“Aw, thanks, kiddo! I may be new to parenting, but taking care of ‘em is old hat.” Patton grinned down at the one in his arms.

“I can tell.” The man laughed. “And to tell you a secret? I’ve been working here for years, and I have never heard a baby cry as much as this little boy has. As a matter of fact, nobody here can get him to stop crying. We’ve tried feeding and diaper changes, everything you can think of. But this baby always has something to say.”

Patton bounced the little boy in his arms a few more times. “There’s always a reason when babies cry. They need something. They’re too little to be crying for no reason just yet.” He glanced around at the attendants. “I’m sure he just wants some cuddles. The smaller they are, the more cuddles they need! You could say they’re  _ cuddle fish _ .” Patton winked at the nurse in front of him, who burst out laughing even though it was a bit of a stretch.

Patton’s partner came over, and the nurse left, still giggling about the pun. Patton smiled. A hard day’s work for a full day’s smiles!

Patton’s partner told him that he hadn’t had any luck, and asked about Patton. Patton grinned quietly, and proudly showed off the little boy in his arms. “I think he’s the one,” Patton said. They had a brief discussion, and quickly agreed that yes, this was the baby they wanted. So, they told Dr. Abioye, who smiled warmly and went about getting all the proper paperwork.

“This is the last step of the adoption process,” she told them. “You sign all the proper paperwork, we give you all his information, and then you take him home. Of course, there’s a one week waiting period for taking the baby home, so that you can take care of any last minute preparations you may have.” Patton nodded quickly, sad that he wouldn’t be able to take the baby home now, but knowing it was for the best. There was a few more baby-proofing items they’d been waiting to put up.

“Now now, what’s this little guy’s name?” Dr. Abioye asked. Patton blushed, said he’d go check, and ducked out of the office. He had forgotten to check when he’d picked the baby up. Foolish of him, but at least he remembered which crib he had come from.

Patton found the crib, and giggled. If he was unsure about the baby before, there was no doubt now. The paper on the box read  _ Virgil Xanders - two months of age - four pounds three ounces - up for adoption _ . Well, Xanders was practically the same as Sanders, which was Patton’s last name, and they had already decided that their children would be taking Patton’s last name. They had decided, if they got married, that they would use Patton’s name. It was important to Patton that he was a Sanders, and his partner didn’t particularly care about his own last name one way or another.

Patton slipped back into the office and announced Virgil’s name for the doctor to hear. Virgil fussed a little when he did it, and Patton cooed about him already recognizing his name.

“Now, because you’re adopting him, you can change his name to whatever you want,” Dr. Abioye said, flipping through a file cabinet. She pulled up another folder, and glanced through, then frowned.

“What’s the matter?” Patton asked, hugging Virgil a little closer.

“Well, Mr. Sanders, according to this it says that Virgil has a twin brother. Logan Xanders.” Dr. Abioye looked from Patton to his partner and back. “I will step out, and let you two discuss what you want to do.”

As soon as she was gone, Patton’s mouth was working. “We can’t split up siblings. Please, we have to take them. Both of them.” And Patton worked on begging his way into convincing his partner to adopt two little boys because they needed a good home where they could be together.

So, after a few minutes’ discussion, they decided to adopt both. The papers were signed, and Patton struggled because he didn’t want to risk holding Virgil with his weaker arm, so he had to sign with his non-dominant hand.But the whole thing turned out well, and Patton could not have been happier.

Back in the main nursery, Patton hesitantly set Virgil back in his crib. Virgil stared at Patton with wide, curious eyes as he moved around. Then, Patton checked the name on the next crib over. Patricia Vidales. Well, that was not Virgil’s brother at all. Patton checked the crib to the other side of Virgil, and there was Logan Xanders. Happily, Patton cooed over him before picking him up, and Logan immediately began squirming around. Patton kept mumbling to him, trying to placate him, but Logan did not seem as easily soothed as his brother had been.

Then, he looked to the side and saw Virgil. Logan gurgled and it seemed like he tried to throw himself out of Patton’s arms and into his brother’s crib. Patton giggled and lowered him down so that they were face to face. Despite the fact that it was nearly impossible for the babies to recognize each other, they both began making tiny baby laughs and kicking at each other. Patton squealed with delight, startling the babies, and his partner laughed. Then, they put their boys back and left, knowing that they’d be there bright and early the next Thursday to take home the newest members of their family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things went from bad to worse. The first month was fine, and the second was alright. But by the third month, both of the men were reaching the end of their patience. Neither of them had gotten a full night’s sleep since before they’d brought the boys home, and while Logan’s sleep pattern had started to lengthen, Virgil was still waking up every few hours.

Patton dealt with it most nights, but they were both always woken up by it. During the day, the boys were golden. Logan was inquisitive, looking at and eating everything he could get his hands on. He squinted a lot, though, and Patton was beginning to wonder if he needed glasses. Virgil was a little fussier, and he wanted to be held at all times, but he was usually okay when he was with Logan.

Things went way sideways when the boys were six months old.

Patton and his partner had been taking care of them for four months. Virgil still couldn’t sleep through the night, and Logan was starting to become just as clingy as his brother during the day. And Patton’s partner got to the point of wanting to tear his own hair out.

Then, the worst thing happened. Patton’s partner suggested that they should take the boys back. Put them back up for adoption because they were not prepared to deal with everything the babies brought along. They wouldn’t remember being with them anyway, so there was no harm done and they could go back to getting a full night’s sleep.

Patton’s jaw dropped at the words. It had become a fight, in which neither man was willing to back down. At the end, Patton’s partner had stormed out of the house, leaving Patton to deal with the boys, who were crying from fear and hunger.

A week later, the other man had packed up his stuff, signed papers that said Patton had full custody, and left. Patton was devastated. He’d thought they were soulmates, in it for the long haul, and absolutely nothing could tear them apart. To be proven wrong was agonizing. And for months after the fact, Patton took care of his boys the best he could, lost in a fog of depression and stress.

He brought them to the bakery with him, where the other workers would play with them throughout the day. He offered to pay them for babysitting, but they all refused. He brought them to the store with him, where they sometimes got odd looks. He took them anywhere he had to go, because he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving them with someone else.

And then, when his baby boys were almost a year old, when Patton had had them for about ten months, when Patton had been taking care of his boys alone for six months, something absolutely astounding happened. Logan stood up, and took two little, tiny baby steps and then fell promptly on his butt and started crying. Virgil crawled across the rug at the speed of light to get to his seventeen minutes younger brother, but Patton sat for a moment, looking in awe at the tiny baby.

Logan had taken those steps toward  _ him _ . He’d been walking toward Patton, his Dad. And Patton was suddenly shocked right out of his fog. He didn’t need his ex. These boys, these two beautiful, loving boys were everything Patton could ask for, and he was lucky enough to have found them.

It would take more time to get completely over the heartache he had experienced, Patton thought, picking up the crying Logan and letting Virgil crawl onto his lap, but at least with his precious boys, it wouldn’t be nearly as hard.


	2. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Age: 1 1/2
> 
> The boys say their first words.

Patton had recently renamed his bakery Sweet Stuff due to popular demand, and now it was encouraged (but not required) that the staff greet customers with ‘sugar’ or ‘sweetheart’ or any other sweets-related pet name.

It had been an early day for Patton, Virgil, and Logan. They’d had to get to Sweet Stuff at a horrifying four thirty in the morning. Luckily, neither of the boys had seemed particularly bothered by such a change from their usual routine, and they were both more than happy to sleep the whole car ride and there and for a few more hours while at the actual bakery.

But, at a lofty five in the morning, the boys decided they’d had more than enough sleep. The two eighteen month olds were now ready to stumble around the bakery and generally make a mess of everything there. Patton stayed in the back with them as often as he could, but they’d recently gotten an influx of new employees and he liked to train them himself so that they knew for sure what the policies were and that Patton wouldn’t blow up at them for getting something wrong. So, for most of the day various workers who were off and had nothing to do came in and sat with Patton’s boys so that he could run the bakery.

Patton came into the back room at about one o’clock, and one of his most trusted employees and managers, Missy, was teaching Virgil and Logan how to bake. She was carefully showing them the measuring cups and how to pour in sugar and knead dough. Patton barely held in a squeal and took pictures of them.

After putting what Patton observed to be a batch of cupcakes in the oven, Missy turned around and saw Patton. “Hey, boss! The boys were getting kind of bored, so I thought I’d show them a thing or two about baking. I thought we could make the icing together while the oven was doing it’s thing.” She smiled mischievously. “You want to join? The boys would love it if their dad was helping ‘em.”

Patton laughed. “Yeah, of course! Sounds like a  _ sweet thyme _ !” Patton bounded up to the table where his kiddos were sitting on stools, scooping Virgil up into his arms for kisses, and then doing the same to Logan. They both squealed delightedly.

Missy began sorting ingredients into different piles on the tabletop, explaining what she was doing the whole time. Virgil and Logan were entirely engrossed in everything she said, watching closely as she moved things around. When she finally passed them some of the ingredients and showed them what to do, they copied her moves exactly. Patton helped correct what they were doing, and soon they were having a fun time, and Patton had totally forgotten the exhaustion plaguing him from waking so early.

Missy excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Patton kept helping the boys with their icing. He had only turned been turned around for a moment when the laughter stopped and silence encased the kitchen like a curse. Patton spun, worried something had happened, and nearly died.

Virgil was staring at Logan like a challenge, who looked entirely dumbfounded. There was a smear of bright pink icing on one lens of Logan’s baby glasses and it was coating Virgil’s hand. Then, Logan slowly picked up some of the green icing in his bowl and put it on Virgil’s cheek. That was all, it seemed, that was needed to declare war. The boys started rubbing icing all over each other, and Patton was giggling wildly in the background, struggling to keep his eyes open to make sure neither boy got hurt.

This went on for a few minutes, Patton fighting to get his breath back so that he could put a stop to this mess-making. Finally, Patton reached over and picked up Virgil who had started this whole thing.

“Veevee, that’s not good. You made a mess everywhere.” He looked at little Lo, trying to keep a straight face. “You too, Lolo. Now we have to clean it up.” Patton was so absorbed in controlling himself he never even saw it coming.

Virgil wiped his icing hands all over Patton’s face, and Logan toddled over, hands up like he wanted to be picked up. He began rubbing his hands all over Patton too, and then Patton was giggling hysterically again, not even bothered by the mess.

“Wub ‘oo!” Patton froze, eyes zeroing in on Logan.

“What?” he mumbled.

“Wub ‘oo, Dad! Wub ‘oo!”

“Lub Dad,” Virgil murmured, rubbing his icing face into Patton’s shoulder. The biggest smile that Patton had ever worn spread across his face, and tears welled out of his eyes. Patton had always been an easy crier.

“I love you, Lolo. I love you Veevee. I love you both so, so much.” Patton pulled both of his icing babies up in his arms, and he just held them, laughing and crying.

This is what parenthood is about, Patton thought. Crying from happiness because your kiddos love you, and you couldn’t be prouder or love them more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They left the bakery at eight that night, as Patton insisted he was the last to leave. The boys were exhausted, and had taken multiple naps throughout the day and then also slept all the way home. Patton had gotten all the icing he could off them, but the shirts might be stained. He couldn’t manage to be bothered about it. It’d been a good day, and Patton was still riding a high.

His boys had said their first words! They’d told him they loved him! Their Dad! He was their Dad and they loved him and that was the first thing they had ever said to him! Patton could not have been more ecstatic if he’d tried.

Patton had to juggle a little to get the boys out of the car together, but he wouldn’t leave one of them sitting in the car alone, just in case he woke up and got scared. As he stepped away from the car, Patton debated the likelihood of coming back for the baby bag, then slammed the door shut. He’d regret it in the morning, but he was too exhausted to bring it in now or make another trip.

Patton shuffled into his house, and set Virgil down on his little bed. Then, he took Logan, and pulled out the spaceship pajamas Logan had wanted so badly.

Patton’s boys rarely had tantrums, but those pajamas had been cause for one.

Patton dressed Logan deftly and put him in the bed. He grabbed up Virgil and changed him into his purple starry pajamas and then put him back into the bed with Logan. They still used a babies crib, but they had started sleeping a lot better when Patton had caved and put them into a crib together. They went to sleep every night with each other and woke up every morning with each other. Patton usually found them all cuddled up together in the mornings. He often took naps with them because they were just so adorable, and Patton’s work hours were so brutal.

Patton went into the kitchen and made himself a cup of sleepytime tea. He wouldn’t have trouble sleeping tonight, but the tea was an easily accessible ritual that calmed Patton after a bad day. It also gave him a few minutes to check on his drying herbs in the kitchen window and water his other plants. Patton liked to pretend he was a witch some days, with a whole selection of natural remedies, and that he could make magical ones if they were ever needed.

Patton sipped his tea and flipped through a cookbook he’d bought recently. He was a decent baker, but he was absolutely a terrible cook, and he had come to realize that he would have to make Virgil and Logan breakfast, lunch, and dinner eventually. They were still mostly on baby food for now, but that wouldn’t last forever. So Patton was trying to at least make his cooking edible before the boys had to eat it.

At ten thirty, Patton got in his bed and set his alarm. Luckily, he only had to get up at eight the next day. He’d probably sleep until noon if he was given the opportunity but that was unlikely to happen anytime soon because his boys always woke up by nine o’clock all on their own.

As Patton lay there, his phone buzzed from the nightstand. He reached over and grabbed it, checking the message. A text from Missy.

Worried about an emergency, Patton opened it immediately. It was a video. He pressed play, and then lay in his bed, crying. It was the icing battle from earlier that day, and she had even recorded the boys’ first words and Patton’s happy-crying.

Patton fell asleep, phone clutched to his chest, thinking about how grateful he was that he had his boys. Patton was so, so happy that he had found them; that Virgil had called out to him at that hospital. That night, Patton dreamed all about the future they would have, and how happy he was that he was getting to ferry these two precious kiddos into adulthood and watch them grow far beyond that.

Patton woke up the next morning and he didn’t remember what he dreamed about. He could already hear gurgling from the other room, though, and he felt refreshed and more hopeful than he had in years.


	3. Pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Virgil have to get new beds.

Things had been peaceful for Virgil and Logan recently. Even though they were three years old, they seemed to have no problem with the usually hectic schedule working around them. They got up with their Dad at six o’clock most mornings, and he made them pancakes or bacon or fruits and vegetables, and occasionally, if they were running low on time, Dad let them have donuts or cereal.

They were at the bakery by seven, and Dad let them in. Virgil and Logan were allowed to run around and play in the area for an hour while Dad got everything ready and did one final wipe-down. Valerie or Thomas usually showed up at seven-thirty to help with the preparation, and then at eight Virgil and Logan were herded into the backroom that Dad had payed to have added on to the building for them. They had a bunch of toys and a pile of pillows for naptime and most of the time there were others with them; the different employees who were kind enough to babysit and sometimes Uncle Emile played with them and told them stories.

Their favorite time time was when Missy came over and took them into the kitchen and helped them make different snacks. Virgil liked making cupcakes and Logan liked snickerdoodle cookies, but they both loved making anything when Dad came in and made something too.

But sometimes they were on their own for a little while. Never longer than ten minutes, but it happened occasionally. Virgil and Logan didn’t really mind, and anyway, they always had each other.

Lunch was always at noon, and they left by four or five o’clock each day. If they left early, then Dad took them to a park or the store to pick up whatever they’d been running out of. Dinner was between six or six-thirty. Bedtime was about nine, and then the whole thing started over the next day.

Both boys were more than okay with their schedule. It was safe and it was fun, and they got to see their friends all day long. The bakery was home to them.

So, it was understandable that, when that schedule was violated, the boys could get a little. . .fussy. Logan, particularly, seemed to hate anything that deviated from the schedule.

But Patton was trying to salvage this situation. He knew they didn’t like the change, so he’d built this day trip up in advance for a couple of weeks and gotten the boys excited for it. Because, the boys had turned three just a few months ago. And three year olds got to have beds, not a baby’s crib. So, Patton was taking them out to choose which bed frames they liked the most. Then, when they were done with that, they’d take them home, and Patton would try to build them and, if all else failed, call his good friends Joan and Talyn. The pair could be pretty handy, so they’d probably be able to figure it out if Patton couldn’t.

That’s what brought them to this little store in the middle of the day. Virgil was in Patton’s arms, quietly watching all the people go by and fidgeting with the buttons on Patton’s shirt. Logan was holding Patton’s free hand, but he was walking so close to Patton’s leg that he almost couldn’t take a step.

“Virgil, I’m going to put you down, okay, baby? I think Logan wants a turn to be held.” Virgil whimpered at first, but then he looked down at Logan, and nodded.  _ These two would do anything for each other, _ Patton thought fondly.

Patton set Virgil on his feet and Lo immediately put his hands up. Patton swung Logan up, and Vee grabbed onto Patton’s pants. Patton was acutely aware of where Virgil was. They’d gone to the grocery store once, and Virgil had been distracted by some shiny sprinkles and had wandered away to look at them. Realizing Virgil was gone and the ensuing search was the most terrifying five minutes of Patton’s life. Now, Patton almost compulsively did head-counts when they left the house.

“Here we are! C’mon, kiddos, you can walk around and look at them if you want.” Virgil hesitantly stepped away, and as soon as Logan’s feet were on the ground, he grabbed Virgil’s hand and dragged him over to the closest bed.

He was usually pretty subdued in public, but if there was something that interested him nearby, he’d forget all about where they were. Patton was glad he could do that. Virgil never got loud in public, and Patton was beginning to wonder whether that was normal, shy three-year-old stuff, or if Virgil might have something else going on.

Still, Logan had pulled out of his shell a little, and he seemed intent on dragging Virgil with him. Patton giggled as the boys looked around at all the beds. They were getting twin beds instead of toddler beds because it seemed like a waste to buy toddler beds when they’d grow out of them by the time they were four. Which is also the reason Patton had waited this long to get them beds. They’d taken to sleeping in Patton’s bed with him for the last year or so, and Patton had been embracing that to the fullest extent. However, it was time to get them beds. So here they were, looking at the frames and sitting on mattresses.

“Daddy! Daddy, wook!” Logan was excitedly pulling Patton’s arm and pointing toward the ceiling. Patton looked up and saw a bird. “It’s a biwd. How’s it get in?”

“Well, kiddo, it probably came through the door?” Patton himself wasn’t sure where the little black bird came from.

“Birds don’t use doors,” Virgil mumbled. He glared at the bird, and then reached over and began to feel a mattress. He pulled his hand away quickly, rubbing it on his pants like there was something nasty on it.

Despite the bird, which Logan kept asking about which Patton found incredibly adorable, the trio managed to choose their mattresses and frames and, with the help of employees, Patton got them out to his truck.

The boys excitedly discussed the bird and their mattresses all the way home. Patton was content to let them entertain themselves for the most part while he worried about how he was going to get all the stuff he just bought into the house.

Patton was also worrying about the bakery. He knew he shouldn’t, because Valerie was more than capable of opening by herself and he trusted her not to do anything bad, but what if something went wrong? They were out of something? What if Patton had forgotten to do something the day before? What if they needed him for something?

Patton wished he could just leave the bakery closed when he couldn’t be there, but he needed the money to keep everything running too badly. Still, it was rare that the bakery was open on a day Patton wasn’t there. Sometimes he left during the day if there was something he needed to do, but he was always there for opening and closing.

Between his worries about the bakery and how on earth he was going to manage two beds, the drive home flew by. Patton sent the boys in the house and decided to take the bed frames in first. They were much more maneuverable, and that was over in a couple of minutes. Then came the hard part: trying to get the mattresses in. It really was a two person job, and after barely managing to pull the first mattress off the truck’s bed, Patton knew he couldn’t do it alone. Leaving the bed leaning against his vehicle, Patton jogged next door and knocked.

“Hey, Patton! What can I do ya for?” asked Patton’s polite, if a little strange, neighbor. His name was Aaron, and he always seemed to be wearing a shirt about some conspiracy or another. He had about five dogs, though they never looked like the same dogs as the last time Patton saw them. He was wearing a backwards baseball cap, and today’s conspiracy was “Jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams.” Patton had actually asked about that one before.

He found he wasn’t really a fan of conspiracies.

“Hey. It’s good to see you, Aaron. I came over to see if you could help me out for a second? I just bought my kiddos some beds, but I didn’t count on the mattresses being so heavy. Could you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, daddio! Let’s go!” Patton led him back to the beds, and they both lifted one side. Even with the two of them, moving the beds was a struggle. The short hallways didn’t leave enough room for turning, and Patton was pretty sure he was lifting most of the mattress by himself. But he was glad for the help anyway. He got a chance to talk to Aaron a bit, and ask about what he’d been up to recently. Apparently, he’d been hunting mothman, which was not something Patton understood at all, but he was still supportive of Aaron’s endeavours.

The second mattress went a little smoother than the first, and they were done pretty quickly.

“Thanks for the help, Aaron! I really appreciate it!”

“It’s no problem, Pat!” Aaron paused, panting. “You’re a lot stronger than you look,” he said slowly, now looking at Patton suspiciously.

“Yup! All those hours I put in at the bakery hauling around food and flour and setting up deliveries really keeps me in shape!” Patton laughed, and Aaron laughed too, no longer suspicious.

“I bet!” He paused again. “You know, I’ve put together a few beds before. I could get these done for ya in an hour or so.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Patton said.

“It’s alright. I didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day, anywho.”

“Well, thanks a bunch, kiddo! I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to do this by myself to start. Do you want me to help, or. . .?”

“No, I can do it. Besides, it’s gettin’ to be lunch time. Most people eat about now.” Patton glanced at his watch and jumped. Already one! Oh, the time really had gotten away from him!

“Okay! If you get hungry while you’re doing this, just come out and get something. You’re more than welcome to have lunch with me and the boys.” Aaron declined, so Patton went to the kitchen where Virgil and Logan were playing with dragons and dinosaurs.

“Daddy. A pet dinosau’?” Logan asked, stopping halfway through a movement to look up at Patton with puppy eyes.

“No! A dragon!” Virgil collided his dragon with Logan’s collection of dinosaurs, roaring and pretending to breathe fire all over them. Logan picked up one of his raptors and crashed it into the dragon. Both of them tumbled to the ground and the boys immediately went back to their game. It was one they played a lot. Logan’s dinosaurs were trying to migrate south for the winter, and Virgil’s dragons did. . .whatever they wanted. Patton really wasn’t sure what they point was, but Virgil and Logan loved it.

Patton went to the counter and began to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Logan. He put two more slices of bread in the toaster for Virgil. They both liked the sandwiches, but Virgil didn’t like how squishy the bread was. It was the same reason he refused to eat his cereal with milk.

In a couple of minutes, Virgil and Logan were seated in their chairs at the table, eating the food like they’d been starved. Patton giggled and told them to calm down, but they both inhaled their sandwiches.

“Daddy, we goin’ to bakey?” Virgil asked. He looked up at Patton, absurdly clean for a three year old who’d just eaten a sandwich. He was directly juxtaposing Logan, who had jelly everywhere, and was now licking off his hands.

“Probably not, kiddo. But we can go tomorrow,” Patton told him. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay Lolo?” Patton carried Logan to wash the jelly off, and then he took both boys into the yard to play.

Aaron left a couple hours following, four slices of bread in his hand. He waved at Patton, who was sitting in the yard with Virgil napping on him and Logan drawing a dinosaur on the sidewalk. Patton waved back, content to sit with his little boy and watch their peaceful neighborhood.

Later that night, Patton was putting the boys to bed. It seemed to be the first time that they realized what, exactly, the beds were for. Patton put Logan into his bed with the dinosaur sheets, and then tucked Virgil into his bed with the purple and white plaid sheets. He told them goodnight, and made sure the night lights were on, and then went to leave the room.

“I love you, kiddos.”

“Daddy, why Lolo there?” Virgil asked.

“Well, Virge, Lolo has his own bed, now. So he can sleep by himself, and you can sleep by yourself.”

“But why?” Logan asked. Patton sighed.

“Boys, you have two beds now so that you can sleep alone. You don’t have to sleep alone, but if you want to, you are allowed. Okay?”

“Okay. . .” Logan did not sound sure. Patton wasn’t sure what else he could say about it, so he decided he’d let time figure it out.

“Okay. Goodnight. I love you, Virgil. I love you, Logan.”

“Love you, Daddy,” the boys mumbled. Patton shut the door behind him and went to make his tea.

“Lolo?”

“‘M comin’.”

Within five minutes, Logan had dragged all of his pillows and blankets over to Virgil’s bed and then climbed in himself.

“Will Daddy be mad?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Logan said, little voice decisive. “He said ‘e can.” Then, they both fell asleep, curled up together, just like always.

It took weeks for Logan and Virgil to even begin to sleep in their own beds, and Patton couldn’t help how cute it was. He never told them they had to use separate beds, but he was proud when they did it on their own. And even once they had mostly stopped sharing one of the beds, Virgil still had the dinosaur pillow and Logan had the purple and white plaid pillow.


	4. Did You Know Cats Have Nine Lives?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil and Logan's first day of school.
> 
> Age: 5

“Hi!” The little girl was entirely too willing to talk to Virgil, who was staring at the door, waiting to come in from recess. It felt like Dad had left them here days ago, and Virgil was beginning to wonder if he’d forgot about them. Logan wasn’t doing any better.

In fact, Logan was taking it quite a bit worse than Virgil was. Logan had been crying since Dad had left, and no amount of consoling from Virgil was making things any better. And then the lady tried to give them seats, and Logan wasn’t next to Virgil, and Virgil had almost started crying. Logan had refused to sit away from Virgil, and sat in the seat next to him. The lady had told Logan he had to sit in his own seat, and Logan had started crying again, for the second time since Dad had left.

When Logan finally did what she asked, it wasn’t exactly how she had imagined. Instead, he scooted his whole desk over so that he was sitting facing Virgil. Eventually, she let Logan and Virgil sit next to each other, but only for today.

Logan had assured him it was for always.

The whole day, Virgil had been looking around for Dad to come back and get them. There were so many rules here and Virgil didn’t know any of these people and he didn’t even know where here  _ was _ and, of course, they had never been anywhere without Dad being nearby. What if something bad happened?

Except, Virgil had to ignore his want for Dad, because Logan was scared, too. Logan was scared and he was crying. He didn’t usually cry that much, but he had cried fifty billion times since Dad had forgotten them here, and Virgil was so scared that Logan would never stop crying and never be happy again.

Virgil had once heard Dad say that Virgil was seventeen minutes older than Logan, and while he wasn’t quite sure what that meant, entirely, he had seen on T.V. that older siblings were usually taking care of their younger siblings. So that made Virgil Logan’s protector, and it was up to Virgil to make sure that Logan got to be happy and not scared again.

That was what brought Virgil here, sitting right beside his brother and glaring at anybody who got too close to Logan, who was crying again. Virgil had tried to suggest hop-scotch and jump rope and the swings, but Logan didn’t want to and really, Virgil was too scared to go up with all those  _ people _ up there. So they sat on the steps together, and when Logan had crawled behind Virgil and started crying again, Virgil had started glaring at anybody who got too close. L was his little brother, and Virgil would protect him.

Things had been pretty quiet for them, and Virgil could feel Logan finally starting to calm down. He had sat down next to Virgil again, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and they were holding hands. It was really the most fun Virgil had had today.

Then this girl came up, and Virgil didn’t know her, and he wanted to keep Logan safe, and he was really scared, and he wanted to cry, too.

“My name’s Percy! I live right there!” She pointed away from the building. “My Mommy walked here today!” Virgil looked at her, and he didn’t say anything. “You-you can talk, right? My Mommy says some people can’t talk and some can’t hear and some can’t see. Did you know that? I’ve never met anybody like that before.” She looked at Virgil with wide eyes, and he shrugged. “That’s okay! I can tell you about my cat! Her name is Jacquelin and she looks like a raccoon!”

Virgil spent the rest of recess with Logan huddled half behind him, occasionally interrupting Percy to correct something she said about cats. Virgil didn’t know how Logan knew that much about cats. All Virgil knew was that they made Dad’s face itchy and he sneezed a lot.

They went back in after recess, and the lady - Logan said she was called a teacher, Percy said she was called a school, and Virgil believed Logan because Logan knew things - put them in groups of four. She said they had to tell each other their favorite colors and about their pets and their families. Virgil didn’t want to do that, and he decided immediately that he wouldn’t. It didn’t matter that his group was Logan and Percy and Maddie. It didn’t matter that they all seemed eager to share. Virgil didn’t want to.

“Muh name’s Maddie, an’ I have uh doggie,” mumbled Maddie. “‘er name’s Jordan an’ she’s got a brown stripe.” Percy gasped.

“My cat’s name is Jacquelin! And she looks like a racoon!” She looked inexplicably excited about it, as though she herself had just found out. “And my Mommy named me Percy! And my favorite color is green!”

“My favorite color’s pink,” Maddie mumbled. Percy gasped.

“I like pink, too!” She looked at Logan, and pointed. “What’s your favorite color?”

“I. . .I wike bwue?” Logan didn’t sound very sure, which Virgil thought was funny because usually Logan would talk about how there were blue dinosaurs and blue fish and blue birds and the sky was blue and the ocean was blue. Logan wished he was blue.

“I love blue!” Percy sounded surprised, still. Then she looked excitedly at Virgil. “What’s your favorite color?” Virgil looked away, shrugging.

“His favowite cowul is puwpul,” Logan supplied helpfully. “And he wikes biwds.”

“What’s your name?” Percy asked.

“Viwgul,” Logan said. “He’s my twin bwother. An’ I’m Wogan.” Percy giggled, and so did Maddie.

“I li’e purple,” Maddie added, smiling at Virgil. Virgil’s face felt hot, and he looked at Logan. Logan just shrugged.

“I wike dinosau’s,” Logan added, and immediately Maddie gasped. They began to talk about dinosaurs, and Virgil was left alone with Percy’s attention.

“Do you have any pets?” Virgil shrugged and tried to find a way out, but nobody else seemed to be having any problems. “Well, come on! You have to know if you have any pets! It doesn’t matter if you can’t talk because you can just shake your head!” Virgil shook his head, and looked at his shoes. They were new, Daddy had just bought them, and they were a little bit uncomfortable. “You don’t have any pets?! That sucks.” Percy seemed put out for the first time since she had begun enthusiastically talking to Virgil. Then, she gasped. “I know! You can share my kitty! Jacquelin doesn’t like many people but you’re my friend, so she’ll like you!”

Virgil was completely confused, and he didn’t really know what he should do. Agree? Disagree? Keeping quiet seemed like the best course of action, even if he wanted to say she was his friend too.

“Did you know that cats have nine lives?” Percy asked. Virgil looked up, interested. “Yeah! They can die and then they keep living because they have nine lives! My cat got hit by a car, but she lived! So now she’s only got eight lives left and we keep her in the house so that those don’t get used up too! But dogs don’t have nine lives. They only got one. I think elephants should get more lives.” And so went the whole day, and eventually Virgil forgot that his Dad left him and Logan at this place. Virgil did his best to respond to Percy, but words were really hard, so she did the talking and Virgil did the adamant agreement. It worked out very well for them both.

At one point, the lady - Mrs. Dustman, Virgil had heard somebody else say - gave them all papers and crayons and they drew pictures. Virgil drew a dinosaur first, and he made it blue, and then he slid it toward Logan. Neither of them said anything about it, but Logan put it in his dinosaur folder that Dad had gotten him. After the dinosaur, Virgil drew a cat and he gave it brown stripes. Then, he gave it a purple color, too, and he gave that one to Percy. She gasped when she got it.

“Jacquelin! And it’s your favorite color! Oh my gosh! It’s so pretty!” She looked at Virgil, totally starstruck. “You’re my bestest friend! Ever!” Nobody had ever said that to Virgil before, but he liked it. He wasn’t totally sure what it meant, but it made him feel good. A bestest friend was a good thing to be, Virgil thought. Not as good as a (slightly) older brother or a protector, but Virgil still loved it.

Virgil colored five more pictures that day and gave another one, this time a purple and green elephant, to Percy. He gave Logan a purple and blue dinosaur. He kept the other three close to him when Mrs. Dustman told them that it was time to go home. Virgil and Logan couldn’t wait to leave, practically vibrating with excitement.

When Dad came to get them from the place - school, Virgil had learned. It was a school and it was where people came to learn things so that they could do more stuff, which sounded kind of overwhelming - Logan had almost started crying again. Virgil had accidentally asked what they would do if Dad forgot them, and Logan had immediately gotten scared again just like the beginning of the day, and Virgil felt like he wasn’t doing his job very well.

But he assured Logan that Dad  _ was _ coming to get them, and he gave Logan a hug and then they held hands while they waited.

Dad wasn’t late. He was the first one in the room when the teacher let all the adults in. Virgil was surprised to find that the other kids had parents, too, and it was shocking for the room to suddenly be so full. Grown-ups, Virgil decided, took up far too much space. Virgil was never going to be that big.

“Virgil! Logan! How was your first day of school?” Dad sounded excited, and Virgil and Logan were wrapped up in his arms before they could respond. For the first time all day, Virgil finally relaxed. Now he knew that everything was going to be okay, and L wouldn’t be scared anymore.

“Mr. Sanders! It’s good to see you,” greeted their teacher. Patton stood up, Logan still attached to him, and shook the woman’s hand. He said something that made her laugh that Virgil didn’t quite hear because he was busy grabbing his Dad’s pants like it was the end of the world.

“You should be very proud of your boys, Mr. Sanders. They’re very smart kids! Did you know that Logan can read?” Briefly, Virgil wandered when Logan had read anything to Mrs. Dustman, but then somebody bumped into him and he fell. When he got back up, Percy was glaring up at someone. Then, she looked at Virgil.

“Are you okay?” Virgil nodded, eyes wide. “What a meanie,” Percy mumbled. “You can’t just knock down my bestest friend like that!”

“Your best friend? Virgil, did you make a friend?” Daddy asked, bending down again. Virgil nodded, hesitant. “What’s her name?”

“I’m Percy!” Percy announced to Dad. He laughed.

“I’m Patton! I’m Virgil and Logan’s dad,” he said. Percy grinned.

“I don’t have a dad, but I have the best Mommy in the world!” Patton giggled.

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart.”

“We don’t have a mom, eivew,” Logan added. Percy gasped, looking at Virgil.

“Really? Oh my gosh!” Virgil shrugged and nodded again, and Percy suddenly looked absolutely delighted. “I know! You can share my Mommy and I’ll share your Daddy, that way we can both have one, and you can come over to see our cat whenever you want!”

“Percy? Honey, how was school?” A tall lady came over and shook hands with Dad, and then Percy made introductions.

“Mommy! It was really fun! This is Virgil! He’s my bestest friend, and that’s his brother Logan! I said he could share my Mommy and I could share his Dad, and we can share Jacquelin, too!” Percy smiled toothily up at her Mom, and the woman smiled back.

“Sounds like a great day, honey!” She glanced at her watch. “Tell your friend bye, Percy. We have to go.”

“Bye Virgil! Bye Logan! Bye Dad!” And then Percy was gone into the thinning crowd. Dad hefted Logan onto his hip, grabbed Virgil’s hand, and pulled them outside. As he snapped them into their carseats, Virgil shyly handed Dad the pictures he’d drawn. One was of him and Logan and Dad, another was of all of them and Percy, and the third one was a dog in light blue.

“Awe, Virge, these are amazing! They’re so good, kiddo! And such a cute dog!” Dad smiled at Virgil. “So, was it a good day?” Virgil nodded, suddenly very, very tired.

“Yeah! It was awesome!” And the whole way home, Logan talked about how fun the first day of school had been, and how nice people were, and he had a bunch of new friends, and he really liked learning more about the stars from the teacher, and did you know that stars come in blue, too? And Virgil, half-asleep, realized that Logan had started off the day crying, and now he couldn’t wait to go back. Maybe things hadn’t been so bad after all, and maybe, just maybe, Virgil was good at protecting Logan; maybe he was a good big brother.


	5. Lunchtime Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School is alright. It really, really is. Logan likes it and Virgil doesn't, and when you add them together, that makes it alright.
> 
> Some days are just...worse than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for the chapter: broken arm, bullying, fight

Age 10

“You can’t climb that tree,” said the little boy who was nine years old. Virgil looked up at the tree and nodded in agreement with a boy he usually avoided. There weren’t enough branches on the tree, and they were way too far apart. They’d never make it up, and even if they did, how were they supposed to get back down? It was an impossible task.

“Don’t be widiciwous,” Logan said. Well, snapped. He’d been arguing with Trevor about different things all day now. First it was how to pronounce green (Trevor insisted that you had to draw out the ‘E’ noise because there were two of them. Logan said that wasn’t prati-pracl-practil? Something that started like that.), and then it had been about whether a marker was blue or purple (Logan got mad when Virgil tried to find a corpo-compis-compro- an in-between and suggested blurple. Evidently, that was not a color, either. Figures.), and then it was a bunch of other things too, and Virgil just wanted to go home to Daddy so he could take a nap and make some cookies and play dress up and maybe even play with the make-up Missy let him see sometimes.

Virgil had also been hoping that Logan would just leave Trevor alone once recess started so that he could read his book and Virgil could catch ants and caterpillars and grasshoppers to show Logan and Logan could spew off a bunch of facts about them that Virgil had probably heard a million times before. And it had begun like that, and Virgil relaxed because Trevor wasn’t very nice usually, and Virgil would rather say nothing than talk to Trevor.

Logan would say that didn’t make sense because Virgil said nothing most of the time anyway.

Virgil realized quickly that Logan starting things wasn’t what he should’ve been worried about. It was, in fact, Trevor who had come up to their quiet area on the curb and begun taunting them again. And somehow, Virgil wasn’t sure when, they’d all ended up in a different area of the playground with a bunch of Trevor’s friends. Virgil was holding a grasshopper in his hands, looking nervously at his brother. Logan’s book was clenched tightly under one arm, and Virgil was worried that the spine would break and then Logan would end up crying again, like last time when Virgil had accidentally dropped Logan’s dictionary on the floor and it had cracked the spine.

“You can not climb that tree!” Trevor yelled at Logan. The group of kids was giggling behind their hands.

“I can too!” Logan shouted back, looking about ready to weaponize his book against Trevor.

“Prove it!” Trevor demanded. Logan froze for a second, looking up at the tree.

“L, c’mon. Please. I think I saw a really cool spider over there,” Virgil mumbled, pulling at Logan’s sleeve. A girl standing near him squealed when he said spider, and Virgil did his absolute best to ignore her. The other kids thought it was weird that Virgil liked bugs, and that Logan knew so much about them but wouldn’t touch them. Dad said they should just ignore them and do what makes them happy, and Logan didn’t seem very bothered by it, but Virgil very much was.

Logan shoved his book into Virgil’s arms. It was dark blue - Logan’s favorite shade of blue, which is why he was reading it, though he’d never admit that to anyone but Virgil - and it said _Alice In Wonderland_ across the cover in shiny gold letters. It was a bigger book than Virgil would normally read, but Logan had no such reservations about whether he could pick up the books he read or not.

“I’wl cwimb it!” Logan snapped at Trevor. He shook Virgil’s hand off his sleeve and approached the tree. Virgil watched silently, wishing he make Logan stop it and come look at an inch worm with him. He was going to fall out of the tree and get hurt. Or embarrass himself.

Really, thought Virgil, why not both?

Logan approached the tree with the confidence of an eight-year-old who knew everything (meaning, every eight-year-old with the possible exception of Virgil, though he did have his own moments of hubris.) Logan proceeded to jump up, and his fingers barely scraped the lowest branch. He glared up at it, and tried to just stick to the tree with one hand while reaching with the other. He still couldn’t quite get there.

“V, he’p me,” Logan muttered, still straining. The rest of the kids were giggling even more now, and Virgil really didn’t want to contribute to Logan getting hurt, but Virgil also knew that he couldn’t just _not climb the tree_ after he said he would. He’d be embarrassed in front of all the others, and maybe they would make fun of him for that, too.

So Virgil went to the tree and curled up on all fours with the book cradled between his chest and his knees. He knew that Logan would kill him if the book got damaged at all in this whole ordeal. He let the grasshopper, Mrs. Legs, go. He didn’t want to accidentally squish her. Then, Logan stepped onto Virgil’s back, and Virgil’s spine felt like it would snap under the pressure of Logan’s hard shoes. The weight disappeared and Virgil looked up. Logan had pulled himself onto the first branch, and was now far more easily hoisting himself into the tree.

Perhaps the branches weren’t as far apart as Virgil had thought they were.

“You cheated!” Trevor yelled, and he pushed Virgil over as he stomped up to the tree. “You cheated! You cheated!” he chanted. Virgil sat up from the ground, glaring at anybody who looked like they might join in the chant. Virgil wished Percy was with him. She was a lot better at talking to people and standing up for the people she cared about.

Then again, Percy probably would have egged Logan on.

“I did not!” Logan called from a hundred feet high. “You never-” Logan screamed as he fell out of the tree. Lo hit the ground with a crack, and he was still whimpering and crying. Virgil rushed forward to see Logan, and the rest of the kids scattered.

“L? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Virgil tried to sit Logan up, but he screamed again, and Virgil almost started crying, too. He backed up a little, but put a hand on Logan’s back, trying to remember what Dad did when Virgil got hurt.

Usually, he would kiss the boo-boo, and then he’d get a bandaid. So, Virgil just had to find Logan’s boo-boo, and he could kiss it better. He didn’t have any bandaids, but maybe it wouldn’t need one?

“Lolo? Are-are you hurt?” Virgil mumbled. This time, Logan let Virgil sit him up.

“Muh-my uh-uh-arm hu-uwts, V.” Tears ran down Logan’s face, and Virgil wanted to help him, but he couldn’t quite staring at his arm.

His arm wasn’t supposed to bend like that, was it?

“We-we gotta get a teacher,” Virgil said quietly.

Together, they stumbled to a teacher, and the teacher looked terrified. After that, it was a blur of activity that Virgil and Logan didn’t quite follow. Logan cried the whole time, and then there was a really loud, white car that came up and two grown ups who jumped out and then they were putting Logan in the back of the car, too. Virgil tried to follow, but they were pulling him back, and then Logan and him were _both_ screaming. There was about a minute of pure terror when Virgil and Logan thought that they were going to be separated.

Eventually, they let Virgil get in too. It was stressing Logan out too much, they said, and it would just be easier to let both boys go. As he was pulled in, Virgil vaguely remembered that Dad told him he wasn’t supposed to get in a stranger’s car, but it was too late. Virgil couldn’t just leave Logan in the car by himself, besides. Virgil was Logan’s older brother, and he was supposed to protect him.

When they got to the hospital, Dad was there, and there were tears in his eyes, but he just held Logan’s hand as they rushed him all over the place and a lot of stuff happened. Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly was happening, he just knew that it was bad. Logan was hurt and he was crying a lot still, and Virgil decided right then and there that he hated hospitals.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Dad finally took them home, Logan was sleeping and there was a weird blue cast on his arm and all of his tears had dried up. Dad didn’t say much on the way home, and Virgil didn’t mind. He was really sleepy too, he just had to make sure they got home safe before he could sleep. Nothing else could happen to Logan today.

This was already Virgil’s fault.

Dad carried Logan in, and Virgil followed on his heels. Once Logan was cuddled up on his purple pillow, Virgil looked at his Dad.

“He’s gonna be okay, right?” Dad jumped, and when he faced Virgil, he looked tired. There was a smile on his face, though. Things couldn’t be that bad if Dad was still smiling.

“Yeah, kiddo. He’s gonna be just fine.” Dad hesitated. “His arm was broken, Virgil. So he’s going to have to wear the cast for a while so that it heals right. Do you understand?” Virgil nodded. He thought he understood. It made sense, anyway. “Okay. Virge, you said he fell out of a tree. Do you know why he was climbing it?”

“He said he couldn’t do it, and they were fighting all day, so Logan got mad. He-he-” Virgil was starting to breathe funny, and he thought he might cry again.

“It’s okay, kiddo. It’s alright. Just take deep breaths. I’m not mad, Virge. I just want to know what happened, okay?”

After a couple minutes of Dad calming Virgil down, Virgil finally told him. “Trevor kept starting fights with Logan all day, and then at recess, he said that Logan couldn’t climb the tree. But Logan was really mad, so he did, and I helped him when I knew he would get hurt and I shouldn’t have I’m really sorry I-”

“Woah woah woah.” Dad put a soothing hand on Virgil’s back, and then he picked him up and carried him to the kitchen. Dad set Virgil on the counter, something that drove Logan insane, and started preparing some ice cream. “Virgil, listen to me. What happened is not your fault.”

“But I-”

“No, Virge. You might have thought Logan was going to get hurt, but you didn’t know. And if Logan was angry, do you really think he would have left the tree for anything?” Virgil shook his head. “It’s not your fault, kiddo. I promise. Logan doesn’t blame you, I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. Logan was going to climb that tree either way.” Then, Dad smiled. “Besides, kiddo, you got Lolo to the teacher and you stayed with him the whole time and kept him calm. I’m really proud of you. You did really good.” Dad handed Virgil a bowl of ice cream in a suspicious shade of blue with cookie dough in it. “It’s alright, Virgil. You did the best you could, and you protected your brother. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you.”

Virgil ate his ice cream a little too quickly, and he got brain freeze part way through. But he knew the quicker he ate, the sooner he go see Logan. Even if Logan was still sleeping. Virgil didn’t really care what Logan was doing, he just wanted his brother.

By nine o’clock, Virgil had crawled into Logan’s bed with his blankets and pillow. He snuggled up to Logan’s not-broken arm, and Logan curled toward him. They stayed in that position all night.

As a matter of fact, Logan did not go to school for the rest of the week (two days) (despite his protests. Logan liked school, for some reason). Virgil refused to move from his spot by Logan’s side, bringing him toys and books and games and whatever else Logan wanted to pass the time. They both got tons of make-up work which Logan rejoiced in completing and which Virgil debated the merits of not doing at all.

Come Monday, though, they were both due back at school. Much to Virgil’s relief, Trevor didn’t say anything to them. For the most part, things were peaceful. They did math and they did some reading, and then, right before lunch, the teacher had everybody line-up so they could sign Logan’s cast with sharpies. Despite the fact that Logan did not want everybody to sign his cast with sharpies.

But the teacher said he had to be nice or something of the sort, and while Logan heartily disagreed, he didn’t get much of a say in the matter. So he stood, mostly without complaint, and let the other kids write weird things on his cast that were probably meant to be funny in whatever nonsensical language it seemed all the other kids spoke. He didn’t quite get it, and he really wasn’t sure if Virgil understood it or not, but he and Virgil had their own language, so Logan didn’t really feel like he was missing out on anything important.

Finally, when it was all said and done, the teacher took their class to the lunch room. Virgil and Logan always sat together, and sometimes Johnny or Maddie or Gina sat with them. Logan liked those days a lot because Maddie knew more about dinosaurs than Logan did and Gina always had really cool snacks she shared with them. Johnny usually made a giant mess of his pudding, and it always made Virgil laugh so hard he cried.

But today it was just Logan and Virgil. Virgil was helping Logan open containers and eat his food, and forgetting to eat his own food in the process. Once everything was set out, Logan pushed Virgil back to his own food and demanded that Virgil eat, too. Logan felt very lucky that Virgil didn’t have to feed him because it was his right arm that was broken. Logan, unlike Virgil, was left-handed, which tended to make life harder. At least this didn’t change _that_ much.

Logan was eating the grapes Dad had cut in half for him, and listening to Virgil mumble about math under his breath. He wasn’t a fan of multiplication, but division made absolutely no sense. They said it was like multiplication, but backward. You can’t do multiplication backward! That’s not how it works.

Normally, Logan would be reading while he ate, half-listening to Virgil’s rants. However, it required all his available appendages to eat.

Actually, that wasn’t quite right. His legs weren’t doing anything important. If he really tried, he could hold his book open with his feet. But then he’d get shoe prints on his book, which was unacceptable, really. Especially after what had happened to _Alice in Wonderland_ last week. So he’d have to take his shoes off. That might work, but would he be able to eat if he was staring at the ground? Probably not, and Dad always said that he shouldn’t hold his food over his books.

While Logan wondered whether going shoeless was worth the cost, Virgil had stopped mumbling about math and was looking over at Trevor, who kept looking at Logan and laughing. Virgil wanted to make Trevor leave them alone, but he wasn’t sure how. Words didn’t work with morons - that was Logan’s favorite word to describe Trevor. Dad was horrified that Logan would call anybody that and that Logan had even known the word. Lo didn’t say it in front of Dad anymore. Virgil also knew he could never fight Trevor. Trevor was tall; a lot taller than Virgil, who was rather small for their age. So was Logan.

Virgil got so lost in his thoughts about Trevor that it took hearing a sniffle to pull him out of it. He looked over at his little brother, and Logan was staring down at his cast with tears in his eyes. Virgil was immediately alarmed.

“Logan? Does your arm hurt?” That’s what Dad had been asking Lo all weekend, and Virgil figured that it was a good place to start. Dad was really good at making things better, and knowing what was wrong.

Except, Logan didn’t say anything. His lips trembled like he was going to start crying, and he showed Virgil his cast. Virgil started reading all the words on it, and then he saw it. The shaky, nasty handwriting that said ‘your stuped.’

Virgil knew exactly who had written that.

“You’re not stupid, L,” Virgil mumbled, pulling Logan into a hug. Logan sat and trembled against Virgil, blue cast that Logan had liked so much resting awkwardly on the table, as far away as Logan could get it.

Logan wished he hadn’t climbed the tree. He wished he hadn’t fallen and that it hadn’t hurt so bad and he wished that Trevor would just leave him alone. Logan wished he was at home with Dad instead of at school.

“It’s okay, Lolo,” Virgil said. He let go of Logan when he started squirming, and he gave Logan his napkin. Logan wiped his face off, and stared at the words branded into his cast.

Then, suddenly, Virgil was getting up and walking down their table. Logan watched after Virgil, shocked. They weren’t allowed to get up during lunchtime, and Virgil never broke the rules. He was too scared of getting yelled at. Not anymore, apparently, because Virgil didn’t hesitate to walk right up to Trevor, and Logan knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“You called my brother stupid and you made him fall out of a tree. You make fun of him because he can’t say some of his letters right,” Logan barely heard Virgil say. Virgil was glowering at Trevor, and Logan had never seen him so mad. “I hate you,” Virgil hissed. Then, he jumped on Trevor.

It took approximately five seconds for the lunch monitors to notice the brawl Virgil had initiated and in those five seconds, things hadn’t gone great for Virgil. Trevor was so much bigger that Virgil hadn’t ever had a chance, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t give it his all. While Logan watched, stunned, a word came into his mind to describe his brother: feral. He’d learned it recently, because Virgil wanted to pet stray cats and Dad always wanted to pet dogs on the street, but they weren’t allowed to pet the feral ones. That meant they were wild, and they could hurt you.

Logan jumped as a couple of teachers pulled them apart. Virgil’s lip was bleeding, but he kept struggling and hissing against the teacher, trying to get back to Trevor, who actually looked scared. They were both pulled into the office, and Logan ran after them. The teachers didn’t even try to stop him. By this point, they knew better than to separate Logan and Virgil.

Logan did his best to make sure Virgil was okay. When they said they’d be calling their parents, Virgil had immediately become so scared that Dad would be mad at him that he couldn’t breathe. Logan didn’t know how to help, but he got as close to Virgil as he could and, when that wasn’t close enough, they had moved to the floor. Logan and Virgil sat on the floor of the lobby, curled up together, and waited for their Dad to arrive.

It turned out, Virgil had nothing to be afraid of. Once all three boys, Dad, and Trevor’s parents were in the office, the principal asked what happened. Trevor immediately tried telling everything in his own twisted way, and Virgil didn’t say a thing. After Trevor’s over-dramatised (Logan learned that word from their teacher, who liked giving him ‘challenge vocabulary’ because Logan was smart) retelling, the principal looked to Virgil.

“What do you have to say, young man?” And Virgil said nothing. He stared at the principal, eyes wide and face pale, and he didn’t say a thing. Logan knew sometimes it was hard for Virgil to remember how to talk, and that sometimes the words Virgil needed weren’t there. So Logan opened his mouth instead.

And promptly got shut down.

“I was asking your brother,” the principal said, silencing Logan. And then Dad got involved.

“I’ll thank you to be a little kinder to my children,” Dad said quietly. Then, he crouched in front of Virgil.

“What happened, kiddo? I’m not mad, but I need to know what happened, okay?” Virgil nodded.

“H-he. . .he wrote on-uhm, he-”

“Oh, for god’s sake!” shouted Trevor’s dad. “The boy can’t even speak. He attacked our son, and our son defended himself. It’s as simple as that. Quit dragging out all this nonsense!”

Dad spun around and stood so quickly Logan almost got whiplash. “Do not speak to or about my children like that.” Logan had never seen Dad look so _mad_ before. Not when Logan and Virgil got in fights, or when they broke something, or when something went bad at the bakery. Logan had absolutely never seen the look on his Dad’s face _on his Dad’s face_ before. “You will let him speak, and he will take as much time as he needs.” Dad turned back to Virgil. His voice was much softer when he said, “What happened, Virgil?”

“The-the teacher muh-made everybody sign-they signed his-cast? And-and he wrote something m-mean,” Virgil whispered. He went quiet again, and Dad directed his eyes toward Logan.

“Can you show me, kiddo?” Logan nodded and lifted his cast, pointing at the offending phrase. Dad leaned down and read what was written there. His eyes looked angry, and Logan had to remind himself that it wasn’t directed at him.

“Logan, is this the same boy who made you fall out of the tree?” Dad asked. Logan nodded. “Is this the one who was making fun of you earlier this year?” Logan nodded. Dad faced the principal, and looking back, this would be a defining moment for Logan. This is the moment that Logan realized his Dad was not always happy and was, in fact, very _very_ capable of anger. When retelling this story to an older brother and a younger brother he does not yet have, Logan would describe what Dad did as ‘raining down the fires of hell.’ Because, at the end of that meeting, Trevor was no longer in their class, Trevor’s parents had tried to pay for half of Logan’s doctor bill and been denied on account of the fact that Dad did not want anything to do with them. Virgil was suspended for the rest of the week, as was policy for first fights, and so was Trevor. Dad hadn’t objected to the suspension, because they shouldn’t have been fighting, but he also defended that his son had been protecting his brother in the only way immediately available.

At the end of the day, things had turned out okay. Virgil wasn’t in trouble at home, and though Logan wanted to, he wasn’t allowed to stay home with Virgil. He brought Virgil’s make-up work home everyday, and they both got a very stern talking to about fighting once they got home that day.

When Virgil did finally go back to school, he was a bit of a celebrity amongst the other kids, and especially with the ones that Trevor had targeted. Trevor didn’t bother either of them or anyone else for the rest of the school year, and his mom got a new job that summer and they moved away. Logan was glad that he never had to see Trevor again, and he was glad that Virgil didn’t either.

Things did calm down for them, and everything went back to normal, but better. Logan wasn’t getting picked on anymore, and Virgil had drawn on Logan’s cast so that the words Trevor had written were covered up by a whole galaxy. So were a lot of things the other kids wrote, but Logan hadn’t wanted those on his cast to start. It looked a lot cooler now, he thought, even if the purple glitter glue was a little overboard.

When Virgil and Logan looked back on this story in their history, and when they told anyone else what happened, no one quite believed that their Dad, happy pappy Patton of the Sweet Stuff bakery, had torn their principal a new one for the bullying they had tried to put a stop to before. And no one quite believed that Virgil, anxious and quiet Virgil who never really got a handle on his words, could’ve said all that or gotten in a fight. Even to Virgil and Logan, sometimes, it seemed surreal. But it was real, and it was one of the many times in their lives when their family had come through for them.

Logan wouldn’t trade it (or them) for anything.


	6. The Science Of Fighting Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New house, new rooms, new problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None

Age: 10

~~~~~~~

Logan was ten years old when he discovered science, and at a strange time in his life.

Dad had excitedly announced that they were. . . _ moving _ . As though that was supposed to be a good thing. Logan immediately began protesting. They had friends, he liked his teachers, his classes were good. Why did they need to leave? But Dad had said they needed to, the house was too small for all three of them now, and besides, they wouldn’t have to change school districts. There was a nice house that was closer to the high school, which would save them time later on. It was also closer to the bakery, where Virgil and Logan would occasionally help out now.

Neither boy was really a fan of this plan, but Dad promised Logan a new microscope or telescope if he wanted it and Virgil guitar lessons if they agreed.

It was perhaps a dirty trick, but it got them both excited, so Patton counted it as a win.

The moving itself took a couple of weeks, and Emile came over a lot to help or play with Virgil and Logan.

They had actually begun moving their stuff to the new house before the boys got to see it. The house was  _ huge _ . It had an upstairs  _ and _ a basement, and Dad said there was an attic, too. Also, it had a  _ lot _ of bedrooms. So many, in fact, that it was almost overwhelming for Logan to choose a room.

It was definitely a change to be in a room alone, too.

Logan wasn’t sure he liked this, actually. He’d always had Virgil in the same room at night, and sometimes in the same bed. Virgil was only ever a few feet away. If Logan got scared at night, all he had to do was look over and he’d see Virgil, who always protected Logan from anything bad when Dad wasn’t around.

Still, Dad said that they could have different rooms, and Virgil got the feeling that they were supposed to  _ want _ different rooms. They ended up choosing neighboring rooms, Logan’s closer to the stairs. Dad took the only bedroom on the first floor because it was closer to the front door.

Logan still didn’t like that he couldn’t see Virgil when he was in bed. He thought he could get over it though, for Dad and Virgil. He didn’t want to seem like a baby, and he didn’t want to bother them.

“Okay, kiddos. Get ready for bed. We have a long day of unpacking tomorrow!” Dad told them the first night. So the boys got ready for bed, and they went to their own rooms, where the only things unpacked were their beds. The only other things in the room was a box of clothes and their night lights - they were matching, Logan’s with blue stars and Virgil’s in purple.

It took about ten minutes before Logan’s door creaked open. He froze, terrified. What if it was a monster? What if it was coming to get him? What if it was _ the Blob _ ? It would eat him! You couldn’t fend off  _ the Blob _ with a night light!

“L? Are you awake?”

“V?” Logan squeaked, peeking out of his blankets. There was Virgil in the doorway, hair fluffed up and drowning in his blanket.

“Are you okay?” Virgil shuffled into Logan’s room, blanket trailing him. The door shut quietly, and then Virgil crawled into Logan’s bed. “You sound scared.”

“I’m not!” Logan immediately whisper-yelled. Virgil hummed at him, and Logan huffed. “I thought you were the Blob,” he whispered. Virgil giggled.

“I’m not. Promise.”

“Well, I can see that  _ now _ ,” Logan snarked back. He hesitated. “What are you doing in here?”

“I got scared of the dark,” Virgil said. The words came out really fast, though, and Logan knew he was trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Me too,” Logan said. He curled up halfway on Virgil, and they stopped talking for a little while. Logan looked up at his ceiling that he couldn’t even see without his glasses in the dark.

“I don’t like that I can’t see you at night,” Virgil suddenly announced. He sounded sleepy, and Logan knew from past experience that Virgil probably wouldn’t even remember saying any of this in the morning. “I don’ like the dark, and I don’ like that you’re so far away.” Virgil’s words were slurred, and his eyes were shut. He was still facing Logan. “I wish I could see you, L,” Virgil mumbled. Then he opened his eyes. “I can now,” he exclaimed tiredly, awed. Logan snorted.

“Go to sleep, V. You’re already mostly there.” Virgil nodded wisely at Logan’s words and promptly passed out. Logan stared up at the ceiling, and then he sent a quick look to Virgil.  _ I wish I could see you. _ Well, maybe that was the problem.

Logan supposed that if he could see Virgil at night, he’d feel much better about going to sleep without him. But there was a wall between their rooms.

Logan shrugged to himself and went to sleep. He’d always prided himself on being logical and a problem-solver. There was an answer to this problem, and he’d find it one way or another.

~~~~~~~

Two days later, almost nothing was unpacked, and Logan and Virgil had snuck down to Patton’s room to go to sleep both nights. All their stuff was in the new house, though, so at least they had toys and books to occupy them when they got any free time.

During the second day, they were supposed to be unpacking their rooms. Dad had told them he needed to get to work on the kitchen first, but he’d be up to help them in an hour or so. Logan and Virgil had quickly given up on doing their own rooms because so much of their stuff was packed into the same boxes. So they were sitting in Virgil’s room, trying to separate their stuff, and realizing most of it was shared and neither one of them really owned it.

It had quickly turned into a giant mess, just like Virgil’s part of their room at home tended to be, and Logan sort of wanted to rip his hair out because this was entirely impossible. There was too much stuff, and they couldn’t keep it organized, and how were they supposed to decide where their stuffed animals were going to live when neither one of them owned them or wanted to give them up? It wasn’t fair.

So they had taken a break, and were drinking juice boxes when Logan got hit with the perfect solution - to their sleeping problems and their toys. They needed another door, but this one  _ between _ their rooms! It was genius. And with all the cool new science stuff that Dad had just bought Logan, he figured they had all the tools they needed to get the job done.

“Okay,” Logan told Virgil, “you hold that end of the tape measure right here.” Logan showed him, and then he pulled his end to the other side of the door, and then he wrote the inches down in the new notebook he had for science experiments.

Logan was beginning to realize how much he really liked doing science. Getting the numbers exact and holding the tape measure steady, trying to figure out what would and what wouldn’t work. It was exhilarating.

“How are we supposed to measure the, uhm, that?” Virgil asked, pointing at the ceiling. Logan looked up, and then at Virgil.

“Top?” Logan suggested. Virgil nodded. “Maybe if I sat on your shoulders I could reach,” Logan said thoughtfully. Virgil looked unsurely at Logan.

“I don’t think that’s going to work, L. You could fall. Or we could still be too small. I don’t think it’ll work.” Virgil hesitated, looking around him. “What if we stacked two of the boxes? Then I could push you on top. You’d probably be closer that way.”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Good idea, V,” he shouted, and then ran to get boxes. Logan dictated that they put a box of books on the bottom since they were less likely to fall that way, and they set another box on top. Then Virgil crouched down, and Logan crawled onto his back, and Virgil stood up so that Logan could get on top of the boxes.

“Here,” Logan said, not seeing the way Virgil looked scared. He handed the tape measure to Virgil. “Put that on the floor, and I will pull this side up to the top of the door.” He stood on his tippy-toes to reach, and the boxes wobbled dangerously.

“Lo, I think you need to get down.”

“I a’most got it, Virgil,” Logan muttered, stretching a little bit more. Logan said ‘ah’ victoriously at the same moment the box unbalanced and sent Logan and an army of stuffed animals flying sideways. Logan hit the ground in a pile of soft, and looked at the ceiling, dazed.

“L? L, are you okay?” Virgil asked anxiously, poking at Logan’s face. Logan shot up and scrambled for his notebook to write down how tall the doorway was.

“Logan,” Virgil said, worried.

“I’m fine, Virgiw. I landed on Bwuesie,” Logan said. The blue cat in question did not look the least bit hurt from being used as a landing pad, and Virgil snatched the cat.

“You better not land on Bluesie again,” Virgil muttered, holding his stuffed animal close.

“Apowogies,” Logan said, looking at the unharmed cat in Virgil’s arms, and then back to Virgil. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright,” Virgil said slowly. Then he shrugged, and held her out to Logan. “But you have to hold her for the rest of the day, or else you’ll hurt her feelings.”

Logan took the rough cat and nodded dutifully at Virgil. “She can help us make the door. She has a lot of really good ideas.”

So, crisis averted, the boys went back into Virgil’s room.

“I think the door only needs to be half as tall as a real door,” Logan said as they both stared at the wall separating their rooms.

“Why?”

“We can’t reach the top unless we want to stack more boxes.”

The mental image of Logan holding a pair of scissors on top a stack of boxes that swayed back in forth slammed into Virgil’s mind, and he shook his head violently. “No. We’re not doing that.”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I agree.” He kept staring at the wall, considering the possibilities. Virgil took the notebook from Logan and began to work the math out.

“Forty inches,” Virgil said, and Logan nodded. They chose a spot, six inches exactly from the back wall, Logan locked the tape measure at forty inches.

“I’ll hold it. You draw the line.” So Virgil dug out one of his art pencils and drew a careful line that went exactly forty inches up the wall. Then the doorbell rang. Virgil jumped from the unexpected noise and accidentally hit Logan, sending them both sprawling.

“That’s probably Percy,” Virgil muttered. Logan laughed, and Virgil glared at him. “Shut up.” Virgil pushed himself up, and Logan followed him to the front door. Dad was already there, greeting Percy and her mom.

“Thank you for bringing her over, Tiffany! I know the boys could use some company,” Dad was saying. Virgil darted around him and grabbed Percy’s arm.

“We have a mission,” he said seriously. She smiled wickedly.

“Let’s do it,” she whispered. Then she called, “Bye, Mom! Love you!” All three of them went hurdling back to the second floor.

“What’s the mission?”

“Virgil and I are making a door between our rooms,” Logan said. They showed Percy the outline. She nodded approvingly.

“Awesome. Let’s do this.”

Over the next hour, they made tremendous progress on their door, though several times they had to redraw the lines, and they argued over what colors they should use.

“How do we cut it?” Virgil finally asked, interrupting the fight breaking out between Logan and Percy. Logan eyed the wall critically.

“I’m not sure.”

“We have knives in the kitchen,” Virgil suggested.

“Yeah, but Dad is in the kitchen. I do not think he will want us taking his knives,” Logan rebutted.

“Why not use scissors,” Percy suggested, pulling a pair of pink bedazzled scissors out of her bag. She pulled on the handles until they came apart, and then offered half to Virgil, who took it.

“Do you carry scissors with you everywhere, or only to our house?” Logan eyed the scissors warily. Percy grinned.

“You never know when they’ll come in handy, little Lolo,” Percy said.

“Don’t call me that,” Logan spat.

“What? Little?”

“No! Lolo!” he snapped.

“So I can call you little, then?” Percy asked.

“No! Do not call me either one!” Logan was turning red and Percy was cackling. Virgil just shook his head, glancing at the half of a pair of scissors in his hand. He hadn’t actually thought that scissors came apart.

“Kiddos, how are you doing up here!” Dad called, stepping into the doorway. Virgil froze in front of the wall. Logan and Percy both went quiet. Dad slowly took in the scissors and then the marks on the wall. “Uhm, guys, what’s that you drew on the wall?”

Virgil knew that Dad knew exactly what they’d put on the wall.

“A door, Papa Patton,” Percy said happily. She waved the scissor at the wall and Virgil ducked on instinct. Dad immediately came over and took the scissors from both of them.

“And why’s that?” Dad asked.

“We wanted to be able to see each other at night,” Logan mumbled at the ground. Dad sighed.

“Boys.” Dad sounded tired. Logan realized just how long it had been since Dad had gone to work. Or done anything other than move their stuff.

“I’m sorry, Dad. We didn’t mean to make you mad,” Logan said. He didn’t look at anyone else when he said it, but he knew Virgil would follow his lead.

“Yeah, Dad. We didn’t wanna be bad,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, Papa Patton,” Percy added, not nearly contrite as her friends. “I just wanted to see what was inside the wall.” She squinted at it as though she would be able to see through it like Superman, who was her favorite superhero. Virgil would argue, any day and any time, that Black Widow was way cooler. Logan argued in favor of Iron Man, because he wanted to make an Iron Man suit one day.

Virgil had told Logan that Percy only liked Superman because he could make things explode with his eyes. Her real favorite was Black Panther, because he dressed like a cat and he was a king.

“Okay. . .” Dad said. Logan saw Virgil wince. “Guys, before you try to make a permanent change to the architecture of the house, maybe you should come ask me first? Okay? I don’t want you guys to get hurt.”

Virgil nodded hurriedly.

“Okay. Sorry, Dad,” he said again.

“It’s alright kiddos. Why don’t we take a little break. We can eat some peanut butter celery sticks and carrots, and maybe a few cookies. Then, we can come back to this. Okay?”

“Okay!” Percy shouted, sprinting out of the room for Papa Patton’s cookies. They were better than any store-bought. Papa Patton said it was because he made them with love. Percy didn’t think love had a taste, but it could. Whatever it was, she’d eat it all day.

“Virgil? Logan? Are you coming down?” Logan grabbed Virgil’s hand and pulled him out the door. Perhaps they did need a break. It couldn’t hurt at least.

~~~~~~~

Later that night, after Percy left and they had most of their toys separated with Dad’s help - though Percy had stolen some, Dad asked about the door they were trying to make.

“I just wanted to see L,” Virgil immediately said, trying his best to keep Logan from getting in trouble.

“I’m scared of the dark,” Logan offered quietly. “And you can’t fight the Blob with a night light.”

“And if there was a, uhm, a hole-thingy-uh-”

“Door?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah. If there was a door between our rooms, then we could see each other.”

“And we could have easier access to the stuff that isn’t either of ours-”

“-but still has to go somewhere,” Virgil finished. Logan nodded. Dad sighed again.

“It’s a new house, kiddos. We can’t just destroy it.” Dad paused, and Logan looked nervously at Virgil. “How about this: you two give it a couple of weeks, okay? Let’s get everything moved in first. If you still don’t like it then, I will cut out a door in the wall. Does that sound fair to you?”

“Yes,” Logan immediately said, nodding.

“Good,” Dad said. “And boys, maybe ask me before you draw on the walls next time, okay?”

“Okay,” Virgil said, knowing that was directed at him. Logan glanced at Virgil, and decided that he would definitely be advocating for Virgil to decorate the walls. He was a much better draw-er than Logan was, and he had wanted to draw a giant spider on their ceiling back home. Logan was, personally, against spiders, but Virgil liked them, and he would probably draw spiders all over his walls.

“Virge, it’s alright. I’m not mad at you. I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” Dad looked at Virgil. Virgil nodded. “Alright. Time for bed, then. Remember you two, try it out for a few weeks.” Dad took Logan and Virgil upstairs and helped them get ready for bed, then tucked them in. Logan’s night light flickered to life as Dad flipped the light off, and Logan tried to convince himself the Blob would not be coming into his room tonight. Dad had promised him that if the Blob came for him, Dad would protect him  _ and _ Virgil.

And even if nobody came to get him, Logan knew  _ science _ . He didn’t think the Blob could beat  _ science _ . He didn’t think anything could beat science.

Except maybe Dad, but that just meant that if science failed, Dad would be able to save him. And there was nothing that could beat Dad. Not by a long shot.

He shut his eyes, knowing he’d be fine.

~~~~~~~

Truth be told, Patton would have bet that with a couple weeks to get used to their new set-up the boys would be fine. He’d thought that they would see that sleeping in different rooms wasn’t so bad, and maybe they’d be okay.

Well, he’d always had horrible luck with bets, Patton thought to himself, staring at the wall and wondering how on earth he was going to put a door in it.


	7. Doors Of Glittering Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman Heo enters the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None warnings!

Age: 12 & 16

~~~~~~~

Roman Heo was sixteen years old. This was very old for a child of the state. He knew most other kids got adopted young or not at all, but he tried his best to keep his hopes up. He charmed every family he had ever stayed with, had been as helpful as he feasibly could be, and he apologized profusely when he messed up. Roman Heo was, really, the best anyone could have asked for in a child.

It didn’t make sense, then, that Roman was also so isolated and that he lacked a real family to call his own. It was criminal, Roman would cry, to himself mostly, in his head because he didn’t want any of the families he’d stayed with to overhear and think he was ungrateful for what they’d given him, that he had been put in so many homes he could not even name them all. It was unjust to put a prince as chivalrous as he in such a predicament as this.

He sometimes tried to soothe himself by saying they’d be sorry they hadn’t adopted him when he became famous. As an actor, singer-songwriter, performer. Roman was a jack of all trades, really, and he was quite good at most of what he did. Being famous for any of it (or all of it) would do.

Despite his best attempts to keep his hopes up and charm people into loving him, Roman knew his odds of getting adopted at this point were slim to none. He was extravagant and dramatic and old and odd. He wasn’t what most people wanted, which was. . .a baby.

So, the surprise Roman felt in the days leading up to and following his adoption by a man named Patton Sanders, whose bubbly disposition made it seem like he’d be more inclined to adopt a kid and not an almost-adult, made him feel like he was walking around in a daze. It was almost too crazy to imagine, that someone had chosen him. But they had, and Roman had been abnormally quiet until Patton was pulling into his driveway, and Roman realized this was real. He wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating or imagining this. He had a  _ home _ , finally, and maybe it wasn’t home right now, but it would be, and he was. . .he was crying.

“Kiddo, are you alright?” The man, Patton - Roman’s new Dad? - placed a gentle hand on his back. Patton didn’t rush him to get out of the car, and he didn’t look like he was going to mock Roman for crying. It was possible that only made the crying worse.

“Sorry. Yuh-yeah. ‘M good. Just, really excited, ya know?” Roman swore he would act more princely as soon as he could get this stop.

“It’s alright, kiddo. Take your time. I know this has got to be a lot to take in, and you have every right to feel what your feeling, and to express that emotion however suits you. Going in the house can wait.” Patton smiled at him, and Roman smiled a little bit too. Maybe it was clich é, but Roman kind of felt like this was what love at first sight was like; the instant feeling of comfort and safety that came with Patton was a balm to all the things Roman was struggling to process. Maybe it was too early to tell, but Roman thought he was really going to love Patton, and this was going to be the family he’d been wishing for.

“I’m, I’m good now, Patton. Thank you.” Roman opened the door and slid out, then went to the backseat for his bag. Patton stood on the other side of the car, smiling softly the whole time. Roman walked with him up to the front door, and he felt giddy and nervous, like a little kid. He kind of wanted to hold Patton’s hand like he  _ was _ little, but Roman wasn’t sure if that would be weird, so he settled for bouncing on his toes as they went to the door.

“Boys! We’re home!” Patton called into the house. There was a crash from the upper floor, and then two paint-covered kids came rushing down the stairs. “Virgil, Logan, this is your new brother, Roman.” Patton motioned towards them. They both looked at Roman, and then one grinned broadly.

“I’m Virgil. That’s Logan.” Virgil waved excitedly. Logan seemed a bit more. . .reserved than his brother. He adjusted his glasses.

“Hello. We’re twelve,” Logan added.

“We’re twins,” Virgil said, and Logan elbowed him.

“I think he knows that, V.”

“Well, how am  _ I _ supposed to know that?” Virgil asked. “He never said it.”

“Boys, please, let Roman have a chance to speak,” Patton cut in. Virgil and Logan both fell silent.

“I am Prince Roman!” Roman announced with his usual level of dramatization. “I am sixteen.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the kids, and one, Logan, fell apart into giggles. Virgil, however, looked awestruck.

“You’re a Prince? Really!” he exclaimed. He was practically vibrating. Roman sent a glance at Patton, to see if this was allowed, if this was okay, if he should keep the game going. Patton was smiling fondly at them, though, and Roman felt more hope blossom.

“Of course, Virgil! And do you know what that means?” Virgil shook his head, smiling wide. Roman knelt down and leaned in a little. “It means that  _ you _ are princes too!”

“I do not think that is how the inheritance of royal titles works,” Logan said, but he was vibrating just the same way Virgil was.

“No way!” Virgil began jumping, holding onto Logan’s arm like an anchor. “L, did you hear that? We’re princes now!” He gasped. “Do we have a kingdom?”

“Why, certainly, my prince! It is a wonderful land full of royalty and knights and dragon-witches!”

“Dragon-witch? What is a dragon-witch?” Logan asked.

“Why, it is an evil, scaly monster that tries to enchant the good citizens! But fear not, young princes! I am also a knight, and I will protect you from her!” Roman brandished an imaginary sword, and then valiantly fought off the foe attacking the kingdom while Virgil and Logan squealed and ran around.

Though nobody noticed him, Patton was laughing quietly to himself and recording the whole thing, tears pouring down his face. He had hoped all his kiddos would get along, but this was amazing. This was so far beyond what he’d expected.

Some people, he supposed, were just meant to be family.

Patton wiped off his face and clapped his hands together softly. “Alright, kiddos, you can play again later.” Patton shushed their disappointed sighs. “I think Roman probably wants to get settled in, and then we’re having dinner in two hours.” Patton turned to Roman. “Roman, you’re welcome to choose any room you want. Do you want help taking your stuff up?”

“No thanks. I can handle it.” Roman lifted his large duffle bag that contained his life and smiled. “Are the bedrooms upstairs?”

“Yup! If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen. I’m thinking spaghetti for dinner.”

“Sounds good,” Roman said. “I wouldn’t miss it.” As he turned toward the steps, Logan grabbed his hand. Then Virgil, already running for the stairs, grabbed Logan’s and they were off. Patton listened to the sounds of his sons racing around and their excited voices and went into the kitchen, feeling hopeful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil was running down the hall, dragging his brothers behind him, trying not to slip on the old sheet they’d thrown on the ground. It was very slippery on top of their slick wood floors, but Virgil and Logan had a destination: Roman’s door.

When Dad had explained to them that he was going to adopt someone, and that someone would become their sibling, the boys had immediately become very invested in acquiring that new sibling and making them feel as at home as possible. There was some confusion about how you can adopt an  _ older _ sibling, but Dad explained everything really clearly and it made sense. Everybody needed a family, even if you were an adult. Or, an almost-adult.

Though they hadn’t come to any of the meetings to actually meet Roman, they made sure that Dad got them the information they needed - favorite colors, stuff he liked, all that jazz. Then, they had begun working. Logan mostly held stencils and mixed colors while Virgil did all the actual drawing and painting, and they made something they hoped Roman would love.

(Dad didn’t know what they’d been working on, though. He had been so busy with the adoption process, something Virgil and Logan understood was very serious and took lots of time, that he hadn’t come upstairs to tuck them into bed at all recently. But they weren’t bothered by it because it meant they had more time to work on their present for their new brother, Roman.)

As Roman was pulled down a hallway with five doors, his attention was caught by two of them, painted in amazing patterns and colors. One, from what he glimpsed, was mostly dark blue and black and white, with little pinpricks in all sorts of colors on it. A galaxy, Roman thought. The other was purple, in a hundred rich shades, with black words written all over it in a million different styles. He couldn’t tell what they read, but they looked beautiful.

The door they stopped in front of was directly across the hall from the other two painted doors. This one was an amalgamation of reds and oranges and yellows, mixed together and splotched all over the place in a haphazard pattern. There were faint outlines on the door of a lion and a mermaid. He thought there might be a meerkat and a warthog, and he could definitely see the cheshire cat. There were more outlines, but the lion took up the center space. It was outlined in bright, burning gold.

“This one’s your room!” Logan exclaimed. He bounced, looking up at Roman’s face.

“We, uh, we made the - the colors and - and the pictures. Dad said that you, uh, liked Disney? It’s not done, but, uhm, we’re gonna finish.” Virgil was red and looking abashed for the first time since Roman had met him. Roman looked back at the door, then at the two boys standing in front of him.

“You guys made this?” Roman’s voice was a near whisper. His eyes were wide.

“Yeah?” Now Logan seemed a little more hesitant. Roman had tears in his eyes as he crouched down next to them.

“This is. . .this is  _ amazing _ . I love it.” Roman was suddenly tackled by both boys. He fell backward, and then they were both hugging him, and Roman laughed a little, high-pitched and awed. He had a Disney-themed door, painted by Virgil and Logan - his younger siblings? Roman hoped so. He hoped so badly that they were siblings, now.

“We chose the biggest room for you,” Logan said, pulling back and straightening his glasses. Virgil nodded along.

“Thank you.” Roman ruffled Logan’s hair, and Logan batted his hands away with a small screech. Virgil laughed a little at it and then they left. Roman finally went into his room, his very first permanent room that belonged only to him. It was fairly small and furnished only with a bed, dresser, and bookshelf. Everything was plain, but Patton had already promised that they were going to buy him sheets and posters and books and movies and whatever else Roman wanted.

Roman laid down on his bed, eyes shut, and listened to the house. There was water running downstairs somewhere. He could hear the soft babble of voices, and every once in a while, one rose up louder in a happy shout. There was music playing, quiet enough that Roman couldn’t tell what the words were. There was a bird outside his window, chirping sharply every few minutes. The wind blew through his window, tickling his hair against his face.

Roman sat up and smiled. This place could be home. The family dinners and customized doors, the giggling father and sons, the happy sounds that seemed to emanate from the house itself. This place was happy, and it was perhaps the first time in years that Roman didn’t feel like he was intruding on someone else’s happiness.

As Roman opened his door and stepped into the hallway, he knew that this was going to be forever, and it was going to be perfect. He had two younger brothers and a Dad now, and while he had doubted it before, he knew things were going to be good. They had accepted him,  _ chose _ him out of everyone else. This family he had found was already amazing, and when he went down the stairs to go help with dinner, the only things Roman felt were happy and hopeful.


	8. Taking A Break From A Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and his brothers are getting ready for a vacation.

Ages 13 & 17

~~~~~~~

Roman had been living with the Sanders family for about a year now. He was seventeen and his birthday had passed spectacularly, in a manner reminiscent of when his parents had still been alive. It was the funnest birthday and quite possible the funnest day Roman had had the privilege of experiencing in years. Roman absolutely loved his Dad and his brothers, and he would give them the world to make them happy.

It seemed that Dad, however, was the one who was intent on giving them world-not just to Virgil and Logan, but to Roman, too. That was why, after a period of saving and careful planning, Dad had sprung a vacation on their heads. They were going to  _ New York _ ! Dad had promised them one broadway play, at least one concert in Central Park, one visit to the Hayden Planetarium, and of course a trip to Central Park Zoo to pet all the animals.

The screams following this declaration probably made the neighbors think someone was getting murdered, but they were all too excited to care.

Now, however, Roman was exhausted. They’d spent the last two weeks getting everything ready for their departure, and it turned out to be a lot more than Roman initially thought. There were friends to tell and schoolwork to complete and household chores to be done and eating their perishable food, just in case it went bad while they were gone. Now, though, it was the night before they were meant to leave, and they only had one last thing to do before they could go to sleep: clean-up and lock-up the bakery.

They were driving up, so they had a very early day ahead of them. Roman was also going to be driving part of the way so that maybe they wouldn’t have to stop to sleep. He absolutely refused to even chance missing Cats, and especially not the Broadway production. So, all the sleep possible was exactly what the doctor ordered.

The three kids were cleaning different areas of Sweet Stuff to “optimize their efforts,” as Logan put it. If that were true, though, Roman didn’t know why he could hear whispering coming from the kitchen. Roman briefly considered that they were getting robbed, and the scene played out in his head for a few horrifying seconds before he threw the brakes. They were  _ not _ getting robbed and his brothers were fine. The whispers were probably just Logan talking to himself. He did that, sometimes, when he was doing particularly hard math, or reading a particularly engaging book or article. It was just Logan.

He should check. Better safe than sorry.

Roman crept toward the kitchen and pushed the door open a crack. There, in front of the oven, was Virgil. Logan was leaning over the counter, wiping it down again. Again, because Roman had already seen Logan clean that counter.

“Uh, guys? What are you doing?” Virgil spun around and hissed at Roman while Logan let out a tiny shriek and jumped. The rag he had been cleaning the counter with was, inexplicably, gone. Roman snorted.

“Why don’t you make some  _ noise _ , Roman? You always walk so quiet,” Virgil muttered, shaking his head.

“I have to be light on my feet, Virgil. I’m a dancer. You know that.” Roman did a fancy maneuver that had almost gotten him hospitalized when he was learning it, and then laughed outright the expression of horror on Logan’s face.

“The human body should not be able to bend or move like that,” Logan announced. He sounded almost sick, and it almost made Roman feel bad. Almost, but not quite. He did it again. Logan dry heaved and Virgil screamed a little bit. Roman couldn’t help but laugh.

“Seriously, though. What are you two up to in here?” Roman leaned in. “Is the oven on?”

“Mm-hmm.” Virgil nodded. “We’re, uh, making-making-” He gestured helplessly at the oven door.

“We’re making cookies,” Logan filled in. Virgil nodded gratefully. “More specifically, we’re making chocolate chunk cookies and we’re going to put icing on top. They are too sweet for me, but Dad likes them that way. And he has been a little stressed recently, most likely about our trip to New York. I believe these will help relieve some of that stress.”

“Really?” Roman tried not to deflate. They were making Dad destressing cookies and hadn’t even told him?

“Yes. Dad likes sweet things so much, and he has not been consuming the same amount as he usually does.” Logan motioned toward the oven, and then motioned for Roman to come closer.

Virgil met his eyes for a second, and he smiled a little. “We were gonna get you when they were done. You can’t, uh, can’t bake for shit, but-”

“Language,” Roman and Logan said at the same time.

“Make me,” Virgil said, and then kept talking like they hadn’t interrupted. “You’re really good at the, uhm, the-ya know, the pretty stuff on top.” Virgil wiggled his fingers in the air as though to show something.

“Icing?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah. You’re the best at the icing, but we didn’t want you touching the cookies before they were done baking. You’d burn ‘em.” Logan is nodding behind him, and Roman supposes that’s fair. Some people just can’t bake.

Roman let the hurt drain out, unfounded as it was, and then turned his brightest smile on his brothers.

“When will they be done?”

“Twenty minutes or so. I cleaned all of my areas,” Virgil supplied. “L was bored and decided to wipe down the counters again.”

“I think that’s going to be kind of hard,” Roman said.

“Why is that?” Logan asked.

“Where’s the rag, pocket-protector? You can’t clean the counter without something to clean with.” Logan hissed and immediately looked embarrassed. It was a habit he’d picked up from Virgil, and he hated it. Virgil, however, though it was hilarious. He burst into mirthful laughter with Roman. Roman patted Logan’s shoulder and then peered into the oven. The cookies looked fine.

Virgil dragged Roman away from the oven by his arm. “Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly.

“Nope.” Virgil popped the ‘p’. “You are not to be anywhere near still-baking cookies. Just your presence seems to make them burn.”

“Yeah,” Roman said, “cause I’m too hot for them to handle.”

Virgil groaned.

“You do realize that what both of you just said was entirely nonsensical and not in any way grounded in facts, right? Neither one of those things is physically possible. And if your body ever got hot enough to burn the cookies, then we would have a much bigger issue to deal with.”

“I love ya, L, but why do you take everything I say so literally?” Virgil shoved Roman toward Logan and then peered into the oven again.

“I do not know what you are talking about, Virgil,” Logan said in a tone that indicated he knew exactly what Virgil was talking about. Virgil debated the benefits of biting his brother.

“Lo, did you hear about the new space movie coming out?” Roman asked, stopping the spat before it got started. Logan lit up and began explaining what he knew about the movie in depth - Roman did not even know the name of the movie, he just knew that Logan would love it. He was rarely wrong about his brothers.

Suddenly, Virgil came over and wiped a bit of icing on Logan’s cheek. Logan cut off mid-sentence and stared at Virgil. Virgil smirked.

“What is it, specs? Is something wrong?” Virgil asked. Roman looked at Virgil’s face, mischievous enough to have Roman on his toes, and then to Logan’s face, which was frozen. Then something vaguely resembling the widnow’s error noise came out of his mouth.

Roman thought that Logan would simply wipe the icing off his face and give Virgil a disapproving look. Very occasionally, Roman was wrong about his brothers. This was one of those times.

Logan reached behind him, hand coming into contact with a bag of flour. Which he exploded on Virgil, hitting Roman with the shrapnel. Roman stared, frozen, as his two younger brothers began a food fight with whatever was in easy range. And when rainbow sprinkles rained down on Roman, he seemed to reboot, and then he was in the middle of it, too. There was flour and icing and sugar and sprinkles everywhere. Logan slipped in the flour coating the floor, and fell into Roman, who used the moment to smear some chocolate syrup into Logan’s slicked back hair. He shrieked in outrage and then Virgil was behind Roman, squeezing chocolate onto Roman’s entire outfit. Then it was Roman’s turn to be outraged. Until he noticed that Virgil seemed to have gotten off far easier than he or Logan had.

“Logan, would you like to form an alliance?” he asked. Logan smirked dangerously at Virgil.

“I would love to, Ro.”

The look on Virgil’s face was priceless.

Within minutes, all three of them were sitting on the floor, laughing at the mess surrounding them. Virgil’s hair was white from the amount of powdered sugar and flour in it, Logan’s glasses were smeared with something that looked like strawberry syrup, and Roman had never been so sticky in his life.

“The cookies are done, I think,” Virgil said. Logan washed his glasses off and then checked.

“You are right. Somehow.” He turned an eye on Virgil. “Are you a psychic?”

“I don’t know, L. Am I?” Roman snorted at the look on Logan’s face for the second time that night.

“Alright, you two ice those, uh, the-the-”

“Cookies?”

“Yup. Ice the cookies. I will clean this up,” Virgil said.

“Are you sure that you would rather clean than help ice the cookies?” Logan asked. Virgil shook his head.

“I’m garbage at icing and you know it.”

“But I don’t know how!” Roman cried, ever-dramatic. “You are a wonderful artist. So why can’t you use icing?”

“It doesn’t behave like paint or charcoals or pens or markers or, or, the uhm, the graphite things. It just isn’t an art supply,” Virgil defended himself, pulling his sticky white jacket off. “Okay, I’ve gotta clean this.”

“Got to,” Logan quietly corrected as Roman said,

“You’re getting awful serious over there, Virge.” Roman watched as Virgil folded up the jacket and placed it on the counter.

“Yeah,” agreed Virgil. “I’m going into cleaning mode.” And then he started cleaning.

“Do. . .do we even have any icing left?” Roman asked Logan, though his eyes remained on Virgil, who was moving around the room quicker than he had any right to go.

“Yes. It is in those cabinets.” Logan motioned up to highest doors in the room.

“Of course it is,” Roman muttered, crawling onto the flour-slick counter. When he opened the doors, however, he saw all the same things they’d just destroyed sitting in pristine condition. “Uh, Logan? Why is all this up here? I know Dad can’t reach it.”

“What?” Logan mumbled, looking up from the cookies. His eyes widened. “I don’t know why that’s there. V?”

“I made sure it was there,” he said, still working on cleaning.

“When? Why?” Roman asked.

“Because Logan and I were in a similar situation a few years ago. And Dad told us we were asking for truffle, and also that the bakery was expensive. I didn’t want Dad to be mad that we, uh, we-shit-

“Language,” they chimed.

“That we trashed the place.” Virgil shrugged and kept mopping the floor.

“How’d you even afford all that?” Roman asked, awed.

“I got Missy and Emile to help me out. Plus, we really didn’t use that much.” Virgil paused to look at his brothers. “We have to put it all away when we’re done, though, and then hide the evidence this ever happened. I don’t want Dad to know.”

“Very astute, V,” Logan said, still shocked. “Wait, that means you planned this!” Logan motioned animatedly to his head.

“I most certainly did not plan for that to happen to your, uh, your, the strands of stuff.”

“Hair?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah.” Virgil grinned. Roman could see the murder playing out in Logan’s eyes. “But I have to say that I very much approve.” Virgil smiled at Logan, who shook his head in despair.

Virgil went back to cleaning, Roman got all the ingredients down to help Logan put away, and then the pair of them iced almost all the cookies. They left a few plain for Logan, because they all kind of wanted cookies, and while Virgil and Logan were not as good as Dad, they were a close second.

“Let’s go home,” Logan mumbled tiredly when they were done. Virgil, looking dead on his feet, agreed.

“Yeah. We gotta give Dad the cookies. And then, if we’re lucky, sleep.”

“What do you mean, if we’re lucky?” Roman asked. “I could sleep through a nuclear explosion right now.”

“Sometimes you can just tell when you won’t be able to sleep at night. You know?”

“No, I don’t think I do,” Roman said quietly. At Virgil’s panicked look, he amended, “I’m sure it’s fine Virgil. Just do your best to sleep tonight. If you can’t, there’s a whole car ride in front of you tomorrow.” Roman walked his little brothers home, smiling.

And if they walked into the house covered in flour and chocolate, and if Dad burst out laughing at the sight, and then crying when they gave him the cookies and said he was “very fondue you three”, and if Virgil didn’t sleep at all that night, it was fine. It was totally fine, and there were some things that could be dealt with after their vacation, and there were some things that they didn’t need to talk about. Patton knew his kiddos loved him, and he loved them just as much.

Maybe a sprinkle more.


	9. Pronouns And Punches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman has something to say.
> 
> Something bad happens to Virgil.
> 
> Logan has a go of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I packed a lot into this one, whoops!

Virgil was, for once, doing his homework when Roman wandered into his room. Logan was lounging at the same desk, a book held above his face in what had to be a very uncomfortable position.

“Hey, guys. What’s up?” Roman lurked in the doorway. He wasn’t coming in the room at all and he was far quieter than he usually was. Something was wrong.

“Virgil is doing his homework. I came in to witness such a rare occurrence happen in person.” Logan didn’t look away from his book. Virgil was tempted to throw his pen at Logan, but the last time he’d gotten a stain on one of Logan’s ties, he’d nearly died. He didn’t want a repeat.

“Look at you, Lolo! You’re really getting this whole sarcasm thing!” Percy stuck her head out from under Virgil’s bed. Logan flushed, but he lowered the book to glare at Percy. She pulled her best pretty girl expression that got her out most of the consequences for most of the things she started. Logan just raised a brow at her.

“Damnit! I have no advantage over you gays! I’m leaving!” She slid out and stood up. Her skirt was all kinds of twisted, as were the neon pink leggings she wore. As she tried to straighten herself out, she accidentally hiked her skirt way up.

“Dude! C’mon! I’m gay, I don’t want to see your ass!” Virgil shouted, covering his eyes. “You’re gay! You don’t want me to see your ass!” Virgil heard Logan choking and knew he had probably gotten a glimpse of the octopus-patterned underwear under the leggings. Percy said she only wore that pair of underwear when she was wearing skirts that way anyone who may have tried to catch a glimpse would be in for a nasty surprise.

She had never explained why she had the underwear to start.

Virgil peaked out from behind his hand, and then shut his eyes more tightly. “Percy, put your skirt down. We don’t wanna see it. Please, stop. Just stop.”

“Nope, sorry Virge. Can’t do that.” An arm wrapped around Virgil’s shoulders and then a wet kiss was pressed into the back of his head.

“Dude!” he shouted again, this time flailing away. He fell out of his chair and something else came down beside him with a crash. Percy was giggling wildly.

“You shouldn’t be so mean to yourself, Virgil,” she chided. “Everybody needs love. Really, the sexualization of touch in America is unhealthy. In other countries, they give each other hugs and hold hands and all sorts of other things. It’s much better there.”

“I agree. That doesn’t mean I want your spit rubbed into my hair.” Virgil risked another glimpse out from between his fingers. Still underwear. “Percy, I want to open my eyes.”

“Then do it, Virge. Nothing stopping you,” Percy sang. Virgil listened to her zip up her school bag.

“There may be nothing stopping Virgil, but you are a minor and I am not,” Roman said. “I would very much like to be able to see again.” Virgil suddenly realized that they must look ridiculous: three teenage boys in a bedroom, eyes covered and a girl in neon pink tights with cheetah underwear showing. A giggle built in his throat and before he could stop it, burst out.

“See? Virgil gets it!” Percy was laughing as she spoke. Then, the darkness around Virgil lit up for a second, and he could hear the sound of a camera going off. “Oh, that one’s going in the scrapbook,” Percy said. Virgil, Logan, and Roman groaned. They had all seen Percy’s version of a scrapbook, and it was terrifying. It was filled with pictures and random knick-knacks with captions about where they’d come from with enough details included to paint an, often far too, vivid picture.

“Alrighty, guess I’ll be on my way. Love ya, Virgil. Bye, Lo. Catch ya later, Roman.” Percy’s hip bumped into Virgil as she left.

“Pull your uh, your skirt down before you leave!” Virgil shouted.

“Nah. I’m gonna walk home like this. It’ll give my Mom a heart attack.”

“Percy!” Her laughs were the only answer Virgil got.

He gave the silence a few seconds before he finally opened his eyes. She really had left, but Logan and Roman did not seem to be taking any chances, as neither of them had looked yet.

“She’s gone,” Virgil said. Logan’s shoulders visibly sagged as he opened his eyes. Roman followed not a moment later.

“Why is she like that?” Logan asked.

“She’s going through her rebellious phase,” Virgil said flatly. He looked at the floor next to him and resisted the urge to scream again. All the pens and pencils he had organized by color were strewn on the ground around him.

He was going to kill Percy one day.

Roman pulled Virgil up, and Virgil smiled a little. Then he sat back down in his rollie chair.

“Are you going to pick those up?” Logan inquired. Virgil shook his head. It wasn’t worth it. It would take forever to reorganize them, and they had more important things to attend.

“Did you want something, Roman?”

“What?” Roman looked like a deer caught in headlights. Virgil glanced at Logan, a request to use his superior wording abilities.

“You came in here. Did you require something? You look nervous.”

Tact had never been Logan’s thing.

“Uh, yeah.” Roman rubbed the back of his neck, not looking at either of them. He cleared his throat, and then looked embarrassed. “I wanted to tell you guys something.” He paused again, and laughed a little. “Man, words can be hard.”

“Preaching to the, uh, the singing thing. L, what is it?”

“Choir,” Logan said. Virgil pointed at Logan.

“That’s the bitch. Preaching to the choir.” Virgil kept his face as open as possible when he faced Roman. This felt important. He hoped it wasn’t bad.

“Suppose I am.” Roman chuckled again, a very distinct laugh of his. He only laughed like that when he was nervous, usually before a performance or audition. “I just, um, god, this stupid. It’s like, not even a big deal,” Roman muttered. He looked at the floor and take a deep breath, and then faced Virgil and Logan. “I’m genderfluid.” The words ripped out of his mouth.

“Okay,” Logan said. “I am afraid I am not well-acquainted with that term.”

“Isn’t it, like, uh, when you identify as more than one gender?” Virgil asked, looking at Roman. He nodded.

“For me, it means that some days I feel like a guy and some days I feel like a girl and some days neither fits. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, really, but I just bring it up because I would appreciate it if, on feminine days or nonbinary days, you could use the appropriate pronouns and call me Ro instead of Roman?” He still looked nervous, like he thought they’d decline. Suddenly, Virgil wanted to fight himself for whatever he’d done to make Roman feel like he couldn’t come to them about important stuff.

About personal stuff.

“Of course, Roman. Or, are you using Ro today?” Logan inquired. Roman smiled.

“Roman, but Ro works whenever, if you want to play it safe.” He glanced at Virgil. Virgil gave him a thumbs up. Sometimes, it was the best he could manage.

“Thank you both. You’re both so amazing and important to me. I love you.” Suddenly teary-eyed and sniffling, Roman pulled Virgil and Logan into a hug that they both reciprocated.

“We love you too, Ro. Always,” Logan murmured. Virgil nodded against Roman’s shoulder.

“Love you, Ro. For, uhm, forever.”

Roman let them go seconds later, knowing neither of his little brothers were really fans of touching unless they were in the mood for it.

“Have you told Dad, Ro? You know he will not be bothered by you,” Logan said.

“Yeah, I told him. He wasn’t bothered a bit. He wants to make cookies as some sort of celebration.” Roman snorted. “I told him it was unnecessary, but you know how Dad is.” He smiled.

“Yes, we do indeed know how Dad is.”

“The best,” Virgil muttered. He ignored the phone vibrating in his pocket.

“I would agree. Objectively,” Logan added. He was smiling too.

“So, I guess we’re having cookies tonight,” Roman said. He glanced at Virgil’s desk. “You should finish your homework, Virge.”

“I dunno. I’m not really in the mood for it,” Virgil said. He looked at the pile of papers he needed to do, and knew he was going to bring his already barely passing grades down by not completing the work. He’d already been given extensions for some of it.

Who liked homework, though?

“Virgil, I have told you multiple times that if you keep neglecting your studies in this manner, you are not going to continue passing your classes.” Logan picked up the paper on the top of the pile. He grimaced at the squiggles covering it. “If you need help with chemistry, I can help you, V. I know it is a challenging class.”

Virgil shrugged. “Maybe later, L.” That meant no, and all three of them knew it.

“Virgil, I-”

“I’m just tired.” He cast a longing glance at his bed. Then he shook it off. “I’m going to do something that requires less brain power. Like,” he shuffled through his papers, “reading? I have to read? Oh my god. I hate Frankenstein. Maybe I’ll just ignore my responsibilities.”

Roman wanted to ask when the last time Virgil slept was. With his insomnia, there was no telling how much sleep Virgil was getting at any point. Instead, Roman suggested, “I can read it to you, if you want.” Virgil looked a little relieved.

“Are you serious?” Virgil asked. Roman nodded.

“Of course, Virge. You know I love doing voices,” he said, and wiggled his eyebrows just for the tired laugh it startled out of Virgil. But his phone vibrated again, and Virgil silenced it. He looked incredibly more tired, and Roman shot a look at Logan.  _ What’s up with him? _ Logan shrugged minutely.

“Alright, well, I am going to go see if Dad is making cookies, and perhaps assist him in his endeavour. Have fun with Frankenstein.” Logan waved as he left, and Roman looked at the paper mess covering Virgil’s desk.

“Uh, Virge, where’s the book?” He hesitantly nudged the pile, hoping to glimpse the reading material.

“Don’t know. Give me a second.”

“Your wish is my command, young Prince,” Roman murmured and sat in Virgil’s rollie chair to wait. Virgil shifted a few papers around on the desk, and a few fluttered to the ground, joining the mess of his precious pens. Roman began collecting all the papers that fell, and by the time Virgil finally came up with the book, there were almost no papers left on the desk, and Roman had separated the rest of them by subject.

“You know that’s just going to be a giant mess again by the time I get to school tomorrow.”

“No,” Roman said. “They will not be a giant mess. They will be completed with the help of your lovely family. Now, how far into Frankenstein are you supposed to be?”

“Chapter fifteen, I think?” Virgil suggested, leaning against his desk.

“Get in the bed, Virgil. You know a story cannot be told well if the audience is not comfortable.” He ushered Virgil across the room, and Virgil flopped into his bed. “Good. Now, how much have you read already?”

“Uh. . .” Virgil muttered. He rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “None?”

“O. . .okay. So we are taking this journey together! From the top!” Roman announced, and then began to read. Virgil shut his eyes and did his best to focus on the words. Or fall asleep. Whichever came more quickly.

They were called down a few hours later for dinner. They had managed to complete all of Virgil’s english assignments and part of his history project. Which was honestly more than Roman had been expecting.

He wondered if the bags under his little brother’s eyes were make-up, or if he hadn’t slept in days.

He didn’t want another hospital visit because of Virgil’s insomnia.

“Hey, guys!” Dad called. “Being productive up there?”

“Nah,” Virgil said. “I vetoed productivity in favor of yeeting Frankenstein out the window.”

“I am not entirely sure of the meaning of that term, Virgil, but if you hurt the book, I will hurt you,” Logan said, eyes wide.

“Hah.” Virgil muttered under his breath, “No need to worry about that.”

“What was that?” Patton asked, looking up sharply from the peanut butter celery sticks and cookies.

“Nothing.” Virgil held his hands up placatingly. “I’m not actually going to yeet the book. Roman was reading it, anyway.”

“Okay. Help yourselves to dinner. If there’s anything else you want, all you have to do is tell me.”

“I’m sure this will be. . .sufficient,” Logan said, looking like he’d rather be eating anything else. Dad laughed, and patted his back.

“I put some healthier food in the oven to keep it warm, Lolo, don’t worry.” Logan let out a sigh of relief. Dad seemed to only eat sweets, and Logan truly wasn’t sure how he’d survived this long.

“So, Ro, how was your day?” Dad asked. Roman, halfway through stuffing a cookie in his mouth and lips already stained blue from icing, paused.

“Uhm, ‘ood?” He chewed the cookie and swallowed hurriedly. “I was thinking about applying to a few colleges. I’m not sure yet, but my teachers are saying I should, and the drama teacher said I’m one of the best performers she’s ever had.” Roman shrugged modestly, and Virgil punched him in the arm.

“Don’t act like you don’t know you’re better at acting than every other kid up there,” Virgil said gruffly, and Logan nodded.

“Yes. Objectively speaking, you,” he paused and pulled out a note card, “‘rock’.” Logan cast a quick glance at Virgil, who nodded.

“Thanks, Lo. Your belief in me is truly inspiring,” Roman said, motioning dramatically. It didn’t sound sarcastic, so Logan just smiled in response.

“Yeah, buddy, you’re great on the stage. If you want to go to college, we fully support you. And you know I’m rooting for ya.” Dad smiled at Ro, and he blushed because despite how long he’d been living with his family, he’s still not used to the praise they so freely handed out.

“Thanks, guys. I’m not sure yet, but. . .maybe.” Roman smiled, and it’s about this time that Virgil tuned out. He listened just enough to know when to nod in agreement, but let his mind take him elsewhere. He just wanted this day to be over.

“Virgil, how much homework do you have left?” Dad asked suddenly, bouncing Virgil out of his bubble of muted voices.

“Uh. . .” Virgil looked to Ro, who answered with a smile.

“Some chemistry, not too much math, and a bit of a history project. But the history project isn’t due to tomorrow, so it’s not really a priority.” Roman was in therapy for a while, and because of that, he was much better at knowing what was a priority and what could wait. Virgil thought that perhaps he needed to go to therapy too.

“That doesn’t seem like so much,” Dad said optimistically. Too optimistically, in Virgil’s far more realistic opinion. “And Lolo is great at chemistry. You’re gonna be fine, Virge.” He smiled, and Virgil didn’t mention he had two other projects that never got turned in, as well as a project for another class that he couldn’t even think about without having a panic attack.

Yeah, it’d been a great day.

Still, Virgil nodded. He knew dwelling wasn’t going to fix anything, and he’d do his best to focus and get his work done despite his. . .current dilemma.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few days later, Ro, who was dressed in a skirt, gallantly offered to drive her brothers to school.

“Yes, Ro, we would appreciate riding to school with you,” Logan replied deadpan. This was something Ro offered every day despite knowing that unless they felt like braving Percy’s driving  _ and _ being late, she was the only option.

Well, they could walk, and they did sometimes, but they usually had much less time than that. Over the years, getting up early had started to become a feat for them, and now Dad was the only person in the house who ever got up when he was supposed to.

Well, except for Virgil, but that was only because he was usually already awake from not sleeping. If he  _ was _ asleep when his alarm went off, there was no waking him.

“Alrighty, calculator watch, no need for the attitude,” Ro said, ruffling his hair. Logan screeched and jerked away, just like he always did. Virgil snorted when Logan upset his cup and sent milking spreading across the table. Logan grumbled while he gathered paper towels, and then they were all rushing out the door to get to Ro’s car. They were about to be late. Again.

“Ro, at school, would you like us to still use male pronouns for you, or female?” Logan asked, leaning up from the back seat. Ro hummed, and flicked on the turn signal.

“Male for now, I suppose. I’ll see about talking to a few of my friends about it and see how they react. Maybe, if all goes well. . .” She smiled at Logan through the mirror.

“Okay,” Logan said, pushing his glasses up a little. Virgil had his headphones on in the front, and his eyes were shut. He could be sleeping, though Logan doubted that. He reached over and flicked Virgil’s neck. He flinched and pulled his headphones off.

“What?”

“Ro said we are to use male pronouns at school for the time being.” Virgil nodded, mumbling something.

“What was that?”

“What about name?” Virgil repeated, voice a little slurred.

“Ro will work,” Ro said. “A lot of people call me that anyway, so they won’t think anything of it.” She cast a glance at Virgil. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.” She tried to put her hand on Virgil’s forehead, and he batted it away.

“I’m fine. ‘M not sick.”

“Are you sure, V?” Logan asked. Virgil nodded, glancing at his siblings’ faces.

“I’m just tired, guys. It happens.” Virgil shut his eyes again, and Logan exchanged a look with Ro in the mirror. Something was wrong. Virgil did not often admit when he was feeling tired.

“Virge. . .” Ro murmured. Virgil grunted and pulled his headphones back on. Logan looked worriedly at Virgil, and then to Ro.

“Has he said anything to you about why he’s. . .acting like this?” Ro whispered. Logan shook his head.

“No, but. . .if it,whatever it is, becomes too serious, he will tell us. He always has.”

“I just hope he doesn't wait too long and something bad happens,” she murmured. Logan’s hands fisted into the hem of his shirt, but he forced himself to nod and lean back into his seat. Whatever was causing Virgil this much irritation would not be good, but Virgil was good at asking for help when he needed it. He’d come to them before things got bad and he would again, Logan didn’t doubt that. Virgil was smart and capable and open, insofar as teenage self-proclaimed ‘emos’ could be open. It would only do more harm to pry. Virgil didn’t like it when he felt like people were digging into his business for no reason.

They’d just have to wait.

Logan got the text during third bell and asked to go to leave the room immediately after. Being a good student who never did anything against the rules (that anybody found out about), the teacher hadn’t even asked why he needed to leave, just waved him away. Logan hadn’t bothered with grabbing the pass, destination in mind before he set foot outside the room.

He was at the bathroom Virgil had specified in under a minute, panting, wishing there was a door he could shut so nobody else would walk in.

“Virgil? Are you in here?” he asked quietly. There was a sniffle and a creak, and then one of the stall doors swung open. Virgil slipped out, and he only took one look at Logan before he was crying. Logan rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Virgil, chest tightening. What had happened?

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Virgil shook his arms, unable to make any words come out. Logan did his best to hum and mumble something comforting as he tried to figure out what on earth could have caused this but nothing was coming to mind and he couldn’t stand not knowing why his twin was hurting so badly.

“V, please,” he said. “What happened?” Virgil took a few deep, gasping breaths to stop the sobs, then pulled back and began rubbing his sleeves into his eyes harshly to erase the tears. Logan waited patiently for him to finally drop his arms down. Virgil sniffed and hiccuped, leaning back against the sink. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. His voice was barely more than a ragged whisper when he spoke.

“Evan cheated on me.”

“He what?” said Logan. His mind went reeling, rifling rapidly through the past few weeks to figure out when and where and how and why hadn’t they noticed something like this happening.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. He took another gasping breath. “He said-he said it was because I’m a tease and-” Virgil shoved his knuckles against his mouth to stop the sob before it could echo into the bathroom. “And if I wanted to keep acting like I was, I should get used to it because no one would ever put up with it.” His voice cracked and broke and shattered over the last word, and Logan shoved the boiling hot, burning rage back down his throat and grabbed Virgil again, hugging him with everything he was worth. He was going to kill that dickbag. He was going to make him wish he had never even fucking laid eyes on Virgil. Fuck every friendly word they’d shared and every pretense of loving Virgil he’d ever exhibited; if he wanted to live through the week, that piece of shit better have the sense to get the fuck out of Dodge.

“None of that’s true, V,” Logan said. “Not a word of what that moron said is true, okay? You did not and do not owe him anything, and there will always be people who love you. He’s an asshole, and assholes should not be listened to. They do not know anything worth hearing.”

“I broke up with him,” Virgil mumbled into Logan’s shoulder. “I broke up with him, but I-I loved him, L. I loved him and he-” Virgil stopped talking, and Logan held him up as he trembled.

“I know,” Logan murmured. “I know.” And, well, he didn’t know. But sometimes  _ I know _ meant  _ I’m here _ , and sometimes it meant  _ I don’t know but I will stay _ , and sometimes it meant  _ you’re hurt but never alone _ . Logan murmured  _ I know _ and knew that Virgil understood him just as well as if he’d said anything else.

They were twins; they had a language.

“Do you want to go home?” Logan asked gently. “I can text Ro or call Dad. They won’t make you stay today.”

“Can you-” Virgil hesitated. “Can you do both? I want everybody. Please.”

“Of course, V. We can head down to the office after I call, okay?” Virgil nodded sedately, so Logan pulled out his phone and called Dad. The conversation was quick, only a few minutes long in which Logan did not delve into any details, only said that Virgil needed to go home and to come quick because it was important. The text he sent to Ro was even less specific. It said that Virgil had to leave and please come to the office now.

Logan did not care for tact; his family was hurting and he would minimize that hurt however possible.

The bell rang just as Logan hit send on his text. “Do you want to head down now or wait for the hallways to clear first?”

“Let’s just go,” Virgil said. “I’d rather wait in the office than the bathroom. It’s fucking nasty in here.” He forced a smile at Logan, and Logan could see the tears in his eyes that he wouldn’t shed until he was somewhere safe, and he nodded.

“Alright. Let’s go.” They headed out of the bathroom side by side, and Logan kept one eye on Virgil as they navigated the flooding halls. He was still shaking, hunching into his jacket and keeping his head down. Logan wanted to do something to help, offer more tactile comfort and words that would ease the betrayal or an emotion that would make the love hurt less, but he couldn’t and he knew he couldn’t.

Until something unfortunate happened.

“Virgil? Baby, what are you doing?” said Evan. Virgil flinched and curled into himself more. Logan turned just enough that Evan would see every bit of derision on his face.

“He broke up with your adultering ass, go fuck yourself,” he spat, and pulled Virgil along even quicker. He could see Ro in the office, waiting for them. Evan followed them a few feet down the hall, defending himself but not, Logan noticed, denying it. He grit his teeth and tried to drown it out for Virgil’s sake. He did not want to cause a scene here and make it any worse on Virgil than it had to be.

Until Evan said  _ prude little tease _ , and that was the last mistake he’d make in regards to the Sanders. There were not words to describe the rage clawing up Logan’s throat, but there sure as fuck were actions.

Logan spun like a centrifuge and blasted Evan in the face with every ounce of anger and hatred and betrayal that he and Virgil felt. Evan hit the ground with a groan, dazed, but Logan wasn’t done yet. He jumped after him and what came next was a blur of fists and blood and anger, and Logan wasn’t aware of much else until he was pulled off of Evan, new pain in his face and barring his teeth like an animal. Evan cowered away from him on the ground, and Logan felt a sick sense of satisfaction.  _ Fuck with my brother? _ he thought,  _ I think the fuck not. _

Logan ended up in a chair in the office, explaining what happened with Evan to Ro and waiting on the principal to see him and wishing Dad were there already. Ro started fretting over him and Virgil both, and then dramatically lamenting the fact that she had not been there herself to give Logan a hand. (This, Logan knew was partly for genuine desire to have gotten some revenge for Virgil, but mostly for the tired, tiny smile it got out of Virgil. Any positive emotion was a good thing.) Virgil wasn’t talking, but he wasn’t crying either so Logan just held his hand and waited. Virgil hadn’t spoken since the fight, and Logan had no plans on forcing him after the day had gone from bad to worse in awful ways.

Minutes into their wait, Dad rushed through the office doors. His eyes lit first on Virgil, and then on Logan. Logan is where they stayed, widening in surprise and confusion. This was, admittedly, probably not the sight he’d been expecting when Logan had called.

“Are you okay?” Dad asked. He crouched in front of Logan and gently prodded at Logan’s face. Logan could tell there would be bruises.

“I am fine,” Logan assured him, voice even and steady. “Evan cheated on Virgil, and then felt the need to insult him and insinuate it was Virgil’s fault on top of it. I may have, uh-”

“Beat his ass in the most spectacularly deserved way I have ever seen,” Ro said.

“Evan did what?” Dad asked. Virgil whimpered quietly. Dad’s eyes went soft. “Oh, Virge, I’m so sorry, kiddo.” Virgil lunged into Dad’s arms, tears streaming down his face again. Dad caught him and held him. Logan relaxed into the shitty plastic chair and leaned on Ro.

“Doing okay, specs?” she asked quietly. Logan nodded. “Good. I’m glad someone gave Evan his just desserts.” He snorted.

“It has been an incredibly long day,” Logan said. “I think we should all take a nap and deal with the fall out at a to-be-determined date.”

“Logan Sanders?” said the principal. “Come in.” Logan sighed, and Dad followed him into the office for the last discussion Logan felt like having. In the end, Logan had a week’s suspension. Evan was not suspended, but he also wouldn’t look any of them in the face and Logan took great enjoyment in staring him down, much to the principal’s displeasure. He warned Logan a second offense would be a lot worse than a week of in-school suspension. Logan nodded amicably and they were released.

At home, Virgil went to his room to sleep the second they walked in the door. He insisted he just wanted to be alone for a while, so Logan followed Dad and Ro into the kitchen. Likely, Dad was going to have a lot to say about the fight. He didn’t approve of violence in almost any capacity, and Logan was not sure whether or not Virgil’s problem would qualify as an exception.

He decided to justify himself before Dad made his judgements. “I understand that what I did was violent and not the only course of action-not even necessarily the correct course of action, and I am aware that other things could have been done to avoid this outcome. However, I just want-”

“I’m proud of you,” Dad said, and Logan froze. Ro also froze, yogurt halfway to her mouth. “It’s very hard to stand up for the people we love, and you protected Virgil from someone who was trying to hurt him. You did a good job, Logan, and you’re an amazing brother. I’m very, very proud of you.” Logan  _ didn’t _ tear up from relief and love, and Dad pulled him into a hug. When he was done not-crying, Logan withdrew.

“Now, there were other ways to handle the situation, but you did good with what you had. But that’s a conversation for another time. Sit at that table right now, mister, and let’s get you some ice,” Dad said. He shooed Logan to his seat. “I am going to make some tea for all of us, and we’ll take a mug up to Virgil if he’s awake, and we can talk about everything that happened tomorrow, okay?”

Logan figured that was probably for the best. If he repeated what Virgil had told him, he might go over to Evan’s house and see about finishing what he’d started. Instead, though, he lured his brother to the living room and they all drank warm tea and watched Frozen. And they were exhausted, but Virgil managed another smile, and that was good enough for one day.


	10. There's A Snake In My House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newest member of the Sanders Family comes home.

Ages 17, 21, & 11

~~~~~~~

Dee was. . .scared? No, that wasn’t right. Nervous? No, not that either. He wasn’t mad or sad or upset. Was he excited? That felt closer, but it wasn’t quite. . .right. How was he feeling?

Eh, he’d just figure it out later.

Dee hummed as he went around the room he used to inhabit, pulling his things into his backpack. Mr. Patton had given him a new one, bigger than his old one, and told him that he could use it to pack up. Now he could fit all his clothes _and_ his toys inside, which was great.

Mr. Patton was going to be Dee’s new Dad. He hadn’t thought it was a job that you could just get, but apparently Mr. Patton could. He must be the best person ever. Mr. Patton even had _other kids_ which was crazy. Dee had lived in a foster home with other kids before, but he’d never been in one where the adults said that they belonged to them. It was so cool! He couldn’t wait to meet all of them.

Mr. Patton had brought one of them, Virgil, to meet Dee once. His hands were yellow and green, and he’d given Dee a snake toy! He was easily the coolest person Dee had ever met, and now he was Dee’s brother. He hoped the others were just like Virgil. How awesome would _that_ be?

“Dee, honey, are you ready to go?” Mrs. Williams stood at the door, smiling at Dee. She was pretty nice, but she had _nothing_ on Mr. Patton, who called Dee kiddo and also brought cookies and _was his Dad now_. Mr. Patton was so cool, Dee was going to just explode.

“Nope!” Dee dragged the bag on the ground behind him, the snake Virgil had given him gripped in his other arm. Mrs. Williams sighed and shook her head, smile fading. For some reason, she did that a lot when Dee talked. Anyway, that didn’t matter now because he was going home with Mr. Patton, who had never sighed at him like that.

“Hey, kiddo!” Mr. Patton was standing in the foyer, smiling broadly at Dee. He looked so happy to see Dee and-

Happy! That’s how Dee was feeling! He was happy!

“Hi, Mr. Patton!” Dee dropped the strap of his bag and jumped for Mr. Patton, who caught him. He was laughing, and Dee liked that sound. It wasn’t mean like some people’s, and it wasn’t pitying like some people’s. It was just happy, like Dee and Mr. Patton! That made it great!

“You don’t have to call me mister, kiddo. You can just call me Patton.” Dee nodded excitedly. Mr. Patton was so nice! “So, kiddo, you ready? How ya feeling?”

“Sad! I can’t wait!” Mr. Patton laughed again.

“I’m glad to hear it, Dee. Do you want me to take that bag for you? It’s awful full.”

“No, please!” Dee ran to the door, bouncing on his toes. “Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Mr. Patton kept smiling as he grabbed Dee’s bag and shook Mrs. Williams’ hand. He thanked her, and she shook her head, and Dee couldn’t quite hear what she said. It didn’t matter, though, because he was going home! He was going to meet his siblings and see Virgil again! This was going to be awesome!

“Okay, kiddo, let’s go.” Mr. Patton pulled the door open, and Dee rushed out before hesitating. Which car was Mr. Patton’s? Did Mr. Patton have a car, or were they going to use a taxi? That would be so cool! Dee’s always wanted to ride in a taxi!

“This way, kiddo. Up here.” Mr. Patton lead Dee to the biggest car on the street. It was a truck! A really big truck! That was even cooler than a taxi! Mr. Patton put Dee in the backseat, but there was another person already there.

“Mr. Patton, there’s-Virgil!” Dee threw himself across the seats and landed on Virgil, who oof-ed and then smiled at him.

“Hey, kid. How’ve you been?”

“Schlecht!” Dee announced. Virgil snorted. Mr. Patton climbed into the front seat, and Dee bounced forward, onto the center console.

“Are we going home, Mr. Patton?”

“Yep, we sure are, kiddo. Now, you have to buckle up, okay? Virgil, could you help him?”

“Yeah, I gotcha.” Virgil coaxed Dee into a seat and clipped the seat belt into place. “We’re all set back here.” Virgil ruffled Dee’s hair, and he leaned sideways until he was laying on Virgil.

“What’re you doing there, Dee?”

“I’m a snake!”

“Oh really? What kind of snake?”

“A python! They can jump out of trees! And they’re yellow!”

“And why are you a snake?”

“Because I’m cold. And snakes are cold-blooded, so they’re really cold too. But you’re not a snake because you’re warm. You’re like a. . .sloth.” Dee eyed Virgil carefully. Virgil was laughing, and he looked like he was crying, too. He petted Dee’s hair.

“I’m a sloth. Okay. Okay. I’m a sloth. Why am I a sloth?”

“Cause you’re warm. And you’re sleepy. Sloths are always tired.”

Virgil nodded solemnly, and Dee liked him even more then. “Does that mean that Ro and Logan are going to be animals, too?”

Dee nodded seriously. It was very important to know what kind of animal you were.

Dee talked the rest of the way home, bouncing from one topic to the next to the next with almost no line of thought connecting them. As they pulled into the driveway of a house Dee had never seen before, he got a look at Virgil’s hands.

“Oh no! What happened to your hands? They were yellow before and now they’re not!” Dee grabbed one of Virgil’s hands, looking closely at it.

“I shed it,” Virgil told him.

“Really?” Dee’s eyes were huge. Virgil nodded, pushing his door open. “Like a snake? You shed the yellow like a snake?”

“Yeah. Of course. I can show you how to do it, too.” Dee squealed and launched himself out of the car. Virgil caught him, cussing, and Mr. Patton said, “Language, Virge.”

Dee shifted onto Virgil’s back, and swung his legs. “Onward!” Dee pointed, and Virgil jogged forward. Dee started laughing, and he twisted around to look for Mr. Patton.

“C’mon, Mr. Patton! We gotta hurry!” Mr. Patton had Dee’s bag on one shoulder and some other bag on his other.

“I”m coming, kiddo. Virge, can you get the door?” Virgil let go of one of Dee’s legs, and shuffled a key into the lock. The door swung open. There was a set of steps to the side that went up, and straight ahead was the kitchen. Dee could see somebody in the kitchen.

“There’s not a person!” Dee shouted. Virgil winced.

“Yep, kiddo, there sure is. Do you want to meet him?” Dee bounced excitedly on Virgil’s back, and Mr. Patton lead the way in.

“Hi!” Dee yelled as soon as they got in the kitchen. “I’m Dee. Mr. Patton is my Dad. Who are you?”

“I am Logan,” said the one with glasses. He looked at Virgil, then back to Dee and smiled. It looked like a real smile. That was good. Dee liked real smiles. “Mr. Patton is also my Dad. Does that make you my brother?”

“Yeah!” With a squawk Dee jumped off Virgil’s back for the counter. Virgil cussed some more as he tried to catch Dee. It was nice of him to do that, but Dee was a python. They were much better jumpers than Virgil was giving him credit for.

Once he was on the table, Dee scooted up to Logan. “You’re a Bengal tiger.” Dee stared into Logan’s eyes for a long, long moment. Logan didn’t look away, and Dee decided Logan was okay, too. Not as great as Virgil was, but he acceptable.

“And what are you?” Logan asked.

“I’m a snake.” Dee grinned at him. “Why do you wear glasses? I can’t see your eyes as good.”

“My glasses let me see _your_ eyes,” Logan said. He took them off, and Dee leaned in closer. “Why are you looking at my eyes, might I ask?”

“‘Cause mine aren’t green cause I’m not a python. Yours aren’t brown. Just like Virgil’s.” Dee turned around to point at Virgil, and then stopped. “You guys look the same. Are you clones!” Dee was vibrating on the counter-top, and Logan was laughing where he was sitting. Dee noted that Virgil was too, and he grinned triumphantly. Laughing was good. Laughing meant happy and Dee liked happy people.

“No, kiddo, they aren’t clones,” Mr. Patton said. He offered his hands to Dee and helped him off the counter. “They’re twins. That means they were born at the same time.”

“Twins.” Dee looked up at Logan and then Virgil again. “Sounds like clones to me.”

“We’re definitely clones,” Virgil gasped as Logan said, “We are definitely not clones.”

“Aha!” Dee exclaimed, jumping for Virgil. He grabbed his hand and then pointed at everyone else. “You’re all lying! I didn’t know it!” Then Dee saw the other person. “Hi! I’m Dee. I’m not Mr. Patton’s son! Who are you?”

“I am Princex Ro,” they announced, bowing. They extended one hand to Dee, who grabbed it and then climbed onto Ro’s back.

“Really? Does that mean that Mr. Patton is a king?” Dee leaned over Ro’s shoulder to see their face.

“It does. Very astute of you, little one. And do you know what else it means?” Dee shook his head. “That you are a prince now, too.”

“That’s _awesome_ ,” Dee whispered, the first quiet thing he’d said since meeting Mr. Patton. Then he looked at Ro’s eyes. “You’re a horse.”

“Uh, really?” Their eyes flicked away from Dee, just for a second. “And why would that be, little prince?”

“Cause you’re brave and proud. And I bet you’re fast.” Ro laughed. “I’m a snake,” Dee added. “I’m a python. They can jump really good. And they can climb trees.” Dee pointed at Virgil. “Virgil is a sloth.” He flung his other arm out at Logan. “He is a bengal tiger.” Then he pointed at Mr. Patton. “Mr. Patton is a koala bear.”

“Why is that?” Ro asked. They were smiling still.

Dee pointed at Virgil again. “Sleepy.” He pointed at Logan. “Cat.” He pointed at Mr. Patton. “Cuddly.” He pointed at Ro. “Brave.” He pointed at himself, whacking Ro in the back of the head with his arm. “Cold.”

“Well, that is all very sound logic to me,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. Dee grinned. “Now, would you like to go see your room?”

“No!” Dee shouted, trying to wriggle over Ro’s shoulder. Ro caught him and held him upside down to carry him there. Dee shrieked wildly and laughed. Mr. Patton was walking in front of them, saying something but Dee was more focused on the pretty doors than he was what Mr. Patton was saying. There was a really pretty door that was purpley-blue and Dee could see the words ‘I guess I’ll sleep when I am dead’ written in pretty calligraphy, also upside down. He agreed. It was better to be awake because there were so many cool things to learn about! And he didn’t want to miss a moment with his new Dad Mr. Patton or any of his siblings (even if Virgil was his favorite)!

There was another door in the hall painted dark blue and purple with little tiny purple stars all over it, and there was a big sun in the middle. A whale was swimming around it like a planet. It was awesome! There were clones and space whales here!

The next door Dee saw was red and gold and sparkly. He saw the Lion King and Alice In Wonderland and Beetlejuice on it. It was really cool, but it still wasn’t as neat as the space whale.

The last door, though. It was _amazing_ . Dee went quiet as soon as he saw it, ogling the yellow snakes and green lizards and brown monkeys and a billion other animals that decorated the wood. He wiggled away from Ro and leaned in so close to the door that his nose was rubbing the paint. He traced the yellow, two-headed snake with his finger. It was a _python_ , like _him_ . It was jumping out of a tree, and it was _huge_. Dee spun around to face his new family.

“This one’s mine!” Mr. Patton and Ro laughed, but it sounded nice, really really nice and Virgil and Logan were smiling. Dee reached out for Mr. Patton who swung him up easily. “I really really do like the snakes,” he said. “Snakes are good.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “Snakes are very good. They keep the ecosystem in balance, they keep rodent population in check, they-”

“Are cold! And they can jump!” Dee said. “And they’re called _Python bivittatus_ technically but nobody says that.”

“I...did not know that,” Logan said. “That’s very interesting.” Dee grinned widely and then wiggled down from Mr. Patton’s arms.

“Can I go in?” he asked.

“Sure thing, kiddo. It’s your room, now.” Mr. Patton motioned to the door, so Dee grabbed the handle and pushed it open. The inside was way huger than any room he’d ever had to himself before. There was a big bed with a yellow pillow and a blanket covered in snakes. There were stuffed animals all over the room, including on the tall brown dresser. Dee squealed when he saw them and dived into the room sweeping them off all of the surfaces and replacing them into a huge pile in the middle of the floor. He jumped into it and wormed his way right to the middle of the pile. It was so _soft_ and _warm_!

“I think he just fell into a vortex,” Virgil muttered. Dee poked his head out of the pile and stuck out his tongue.

“He bleps!” said Ro, grabbing onto Virgil. “Look at how adorable he is!” They pretended to faint against the wall, and Mr. Patton giggled, squeezing by.

“C’mon, Deedee. Let’s get you unpacked, huh?” Dee nodded absently. Maybe Mr. Patton would let him have a pet snake. He didn’t seem to mind snakes that much and there was space for a terrarium on the dresser.

“Okay!” Dee flung himself out of the soft pile of new friends and began to dig through his bag. There were his pants and his shirts and - his pajamas!

“Can I put my pajamas on, Mr. Patton?” Dee asked.

“We haven’t even had dinner yet, kiddo!”

“Pleeeeaaase?” Dee asked.

Mr. Patton pretend-huffed. “Alright, go ahead.” Dee smiled and raced for the bathroom. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.


	11. Knights And Diplomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins graduate.

Ages: 18 & 22 & 12

~~~~~~~~~

If you had asked Logan how he felt about being an adult, the answer would have been simple: mostly calm, a little excited. They would have more freedom, but they never really had any complaints about the amount of freedom they got from their Dad. It wasn’t that crazy.

That was before Graduation Day.

Now, sitting in a crowded auditorium and preparing himself to go up on stage and collect the thing he’d been working toward for the last thirteen years, Logan’s opinion had changed:

He was fucking ecstatic.

There was not a calm bone in his body, and he couldn’t help the tremors running through him. He was grinning, so wide it made his whole face feel like it was going to split open, and he wanted to laugh. God, he felt _amazing_.

“L? You good?” Virgil was smiling as he asked. Logan would’ve stretched his smile wider if he could’ve.

“Yes. I am doing tremendously well.” Logan grabbed Virgil’s hand. “We are _graduating_ , Virgil. We are getting to become real, functioning members of society. We are going to be able to do _whatever_ we want. We can go places and buy things and we don’t have to tell anyone about it first.”

“But we will,” Virgil said. “We’ll tell Dad if we’re going to the store or going to meet somebody.”

“Yes, but we’ll do it because we want to, not because we might not be able to go.” He couldn’t help the energy oozing from every pore anymore than he could stop the blood pumping through his body. This was exciting and amazing and fantastic and wonderful and-

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “That is pretty cool.” He leaned back in his chair, looking every bit nonchalant that Logan looked ready to explode. Logan just kept on grinning, vibrating in his seat as the lights adjusted and music played and all those other graduation things happened. He didn’t hear most of it, too absorbed in his own excitement, too ready for whatever he was going to do next. He wanted this to last forever while simultaneously hoping it ended _right now_ so that he could get started on something. It was the strangest feeling Logan had experienced, but it wasn’t necessarily bad.

Then, suddenly, Logan heard his name being called and stood up, walking up the aisle to the stage with Virgil right behind him. Hooting and cheering was echoing from all over the audience despite the fact that the Principal had explicitly asked for all cheering to be withheld until all the graduates had retaken their seats.

Within all the noise, Logan felt positive he could hear Dad and Ro and Dee. It was unrealistic to imagine that their voices would be heard when they were sitting so far up in the seats. But Logan knew what he knew, and that was that his family was every bit as excited about this as Logan was and they were making their excitement heard.

Every step approaching the stage felt like Logan was ascending Mount Olympus to meet with Zeus, or entering the Shire to see the Ring. There was an inflating, buoyant feeling in his chest, and if he wasn’t careful, Logan might just float away with all those ‘Happy Graduation' helium balloons.

He paused on stage to receive his diploma - a rolled up sheet of blank paper with a fancy bow on it because they couldn’t get the real thing until they’d gone to the bookkeeper to make sure that they didn’t have any outstanding fees - and shake the Principal’s hand, smiling up into the crowd. He found his family and beamed at them, resisting the urge to jump up and down like a lunatic. Logically, Logan knew there was no reason for him to be this excited. Not much was realistically changing. He wasn’t even taking his real diploma right now.

But something in him didn’t care about all that. He was doing something big, something _huge_ , he and Virgil both were. They were going to take this step into real life together, and they were moving up to something else. College in the fall or a job, maybe. Logan didn’t know yet. What Logan did know was that it was his decision, and he had so many options.

Logan took his seat beside Virgil again, holding hands, both of them shaking. He didn’t hear the rest of the Graduation Ceremony, whatever people talked about or whichever of their classmates got their diplomas. Logan’s leg bounced up and down, up and down, up and down as the ceremony dragged on for eons. Then the students were standing up and their families were flooding in. There was a bottleneck at the doors, and Logan knew they’d be stuck for a while before Dad and Ro and Dee got to them.

“Follow me,” Virgil whispered, tugging on Logan’s hand. Intrigued, Logan followed Virgil through the crowd, both waving as they passed by Percy and her Mom. How she’d gotten into the main area, Logan didn’t know. Similarly, how Percy had graduated while turning in less work than Virgil was also a mystery, but at the end of the day, Logan was content just to know that it had happened. As much of a pain as their friends could be, and Percy in particular, Logan was glad that all of them had graduated. It wouldn’t be the same if they hadn’t.

Virgil bee-lined for a door being guarded by the physics professor - he actually owned a doctorate, why he was a high school teacher was beyond Logan - and they both paused there.

“Mr. Sanders,” he said, eyes on Virgil despite the fact that Logan was the one who had taken his class.

“Dr. Bhasin,” Virgil responded, giving a slight nod. Dr. Bhasin glanced around before nodding back and opening the door and letting them through. It shut behind them with a quiet snick.

“Virgil,” Logan said, all his questions stopping at the tip of his tongue. Luckily, Virgil got it.

“I didn’t want to deal with the crowd and I figured with the combination of having to get Ro _and_ Dee here, they’d be late and get pretty bad seats. When I found out he was going to be guarding one of the doors for ‘safety purposes’ I brought him a bag of LaffyTaffy in exchange for letting me leave.” Virgil shrugged.

“LaffyTaffy,” Logan repeated.

“Everybody has a weakness, L,” he said. And while Logan wanted to repeat _LaffyTaffy_ for the rest of his existence in complete bewilderment that a _doctor_ who was as revered as his physics professor would disregard rules for candy, he could already feel that helium feeling rising up in his stomach again and he decided rather forcefully that he wouldn’t get stuck on his own lack of comprehension with his teacher’s strange and nonsensical patterns of behavior. He was not going into the humanities for a reason.

“Lovely,” Logan said instead and they ran down the hallway and then down a flight of stairs, ending up outside in the sun. Logan blinked quickly, the light burning his eyes after so long a time of sitting inside and waiting to be able to see his family. Outside, probably three fourths of the students’ families were waiting, like they were supposed to, for their kids to come out. Logan knew it was going to be a pretty long wait for them because so many others chose to try to enter the main part of the auditorium instead of heading outside, but he felt entirely, selfishly glad that Virgil had been able to foresee that particular issue.

“I see Ro,” Virgil said, pointing toward a shock of bright red hair. Logan took off running for it and Virgil followed half a step behind. They barrelled into him at full speed, nearly knocking him over. Then they were engulfed by three pairs of arms and teary laughs and Logan would float away if they let go of him. Luckily, they stayed that way for what could have been hours or days; all he knew was by the time he stepped back the other students had flooded outside also.

“My baby is all grown up!” Dad said, hanging onto Logan’s hand just as tightly as Logan held his. “Both of them!” He cooed and cried over them, grabbing ahold of their faces and kissing their heads. He took picture after picture as he did it, which was rather impressive considering he had tears smudged all over his glasses. While normally Logan abhorred such displays, and especially when they disrupted his meticulously done hair, today was anything but normal. Logan laughed loudly and leaned into it, feeling every sensation with amazing clarity.

“Are you excited for dinner?” Roman asked. For the first time today, Logan remembered: their graduation dinner.

“Nooo,” he groaned, drawing out the syllable. Roman snorted at him but Virgil, the only one with some sense, joined him in his whining.

“This is gonna suuuuuck,” he said, leaning into Logan. “So many people.”

“Ssssssocializzzzzing,” Dee hissed from his spot on Virgil’s back and Logan would deny the way he went right back to smiling at that adorable little snake sound. “Disssssgusssssting.”

“Exactly,” said Virgil. “Dee gets it.”

“Da-ad, they’re corrupting my brother,” Roman said. Virgil punched him in the arm and Roman feigned being mortally wounded. Dee cheered wildly and any semblance of respectability that Logan had vanished as he devolved into a round giggling - not that he would _ever_ call it giggling, but some facts were simply irrefutable.

“Oh, come on, now,” Dad said. “Nobody’s corrupted.”

“Yet,” Roman said, sticking his tongue out at Virgil when Dad started walking toward the car. Logan coughed over a laugh and instead caught up with Dad.

“Who exactly is meant to attend this dinner?” Logan asked.

“Just your friends, kiddo! I promise, I wouldn’t invite anybody that you didn’t like.” Dad smiles at Logan, and Logan cannot for the life of him explain that perhaps, just for tonight, he does not like any of them enough to want to see them. But he knows that Virgil would like to go, and that Virgil is always less anxious with Logan around. So he took a breath and nodded.

“Adequate.” Dad gave him an odd look but opted not to say anything and they got home in relative peace.

Relative peace meaning only that Logan had not gone completely deaf by the time he stumbled out of the car to escape the unfortunately loud music Virgil had been permitted to play. How his twin had not lost all his hearing yet remained a mystery to Logan, but one he knew better than to look into personally.

The last time he had asked too insistently, he permanently lost one of his socks. He did not intend to have a repeat.

Logan wished he could say that he was not even kind of tempted by the blanket fort he saw in the living room when he walked into the house—it was unprofessional, ridiculous, and frankly the structural integrity was so bad it was a wonder it could stand at all. But that would be a falsehood and Logan was far too excited to even pretend that the blanket for was unappealing.

He discarded his shoes and the graduation cap quickly, diving into the fort. Roman laughed on the outside, and Logan would have complained about that too but he was suddenly contending with an armful of little snake.

“Moviesss,” Dee hissed, curling up in Logan’s lap. Dad crawled in after them, grinning.

“Yep, kiddo,” he said. “We’re watching movies until it’s time for dinner.”

Roman squeezed in after him and they all had to shift around a little so that they fit comfortably. “I think we should watch Mulan,” he said.

“Vetoed,” Virgil said immediately from outside the fort.

“Virrrrrrgillllll,” Roman whined.

“Roooooomaaaaaan,” Virgil responded, “no.” Roman groaned and threw his arms out, coming within an inch of taking Logan’s glasses off his face.

“Roman, do not underestimate me when I say if you hit me in the face, you will regret it.”

“Oh yeah?” Roman said. “What are you gonna do about it, specs?” Logan kept his face completely blank while he dragged a finger across his throat. That was one gesture that he had found particularly useful in life. It always caused Ro to make a face and stop whatever offending thing he was doing. As he did now, which Logan was grateful for.

“Snow White,” Dee said, hugging his stuffed snake to his chest.

“Ooh, good idea, kiddo,” Dad said.

“I agree with Dee,” Logan said. Dee wriggled happily, almost smacking Logan in the face when he waved his arms a little too exuberantly for the small, weak structure they were sitting in. Logan sighed, moving his face back, and refused to look at Roman when he made Offended Princey Noises and started babbling nonsense about having no allies.

What did he think this was, a war?

(If it was, Logan was totally winning.)

Logan snickered to himself while Virgil set up all their movies and then dragged himself into the fort, nearly knocking it over in the process.

“Got enough snacks there, emo nightmare?” Roman said, swatting at Virgil. Virgil held up a box of snowcaps. “Sorry, thank you, I love you, you are my favorite brother.” Roman snatched the candy away and very nearly hit Logan’s glasses off his face. Again.

Logan sighed and scooted a little closer. If he couldn’t get outside the range of Roman’s arms, he may as well get inside his personal space. An eye for an eye, right?

~~~~~~~

Logan adjusted his tie, in the same shades of blue and gold as his graduation garments had been, and then smoothed his hair back. He fiddled in front of the mirror, examining his outfit as though he thought it might betray him. If asked why, Logan would simply say that he wanted to look his best. He had just graduated, after all, and this dinner was going to make it as official as it got.

In truth, Logan was dawdling.

This graduation dinner was going to kill him if it was the last thing he did. Don’t get him wrong, Logan did like seeing his friends and he had been excited about getting to graduate with his peers all day. And that was part of the problem.

Logan had been excited and very nearly bouncing himself through the ceiling since the previous night. Graduation had gone amazingly, filled with pictures he was sure he’d get tired of looking at eventual (but for now still filled him with that indescribable, inflated feeling.) And now all he really wanted to do was sleep. Or maybe talk to Virgil about some of the things they wanted to do with this new-found freedom.

Instead, he was going to a celebration dinner with friends. It was not bad, per se, but it was not exactly ideal, either. Still, it wouldn’t be terrible to see them and Virgil was more excited about this than he had been about Walking, but he had done it for Logan. The least he could do was support his brother.

“What’re you doing?” Ro cried, barging into Logan’s room. At some point they had switched necklaces so that the pronouns read ‘they/them.’ Logan smiled slightly. He had bought them the pronoun necklace shortly after they came out, and Logan was always made happier to realize how much they liked it.

“Preparing to leave. What are you doing?” Logan said. He tightened his tie again. Ro rolled their eyes.

“C’mon, Poindexter. You can tie that in your sleep and we’re going to be late to your own celebration.” They snagged one of his wrists and began leading him toward the car.

“We are hardly going to be late,” he muttered but did not object to leaving. The restaurant, some pizza place Logan did not bother with figuring out the name of, had been reserved for a record number of people. Logan and Virgil and Ro and Dee and Percy and Dad, and Dad’s sibling Emile, and Emile’s son Kai, and Kai’s datemate Elliot. There were also Ro’s friends Anton and Marco, and Dee’s friends October and Seth, and a few people from Dad’s bakery, including Missy. Logan recalled he had invited his lab partner from Physics, Linda, and his two friends Nate and Corbin. Corbin’s boyfriend, Sloane, might also make an appearance, though Logan would not be surprised if he did. The two were figuratively attached at the hip. Virgil had only suggested two people: someone who Virgil only referred to as dickhead or The Critic, and Remy.

The latter, Logan knew, Virgil liked in a way different from how one liked friends. He also knew Virgil was still recovering from an unfortunate incident a few years prior that had ended with Logan and Ro egging someone’s house. Virgil had not expressed an interest in dating or trusting someone like that again, except for vague allusions to Remy, but it was not yet Logan’s place to be encouraging that.

Though he might. Virgil could be slow to trust and even slower to take a risk for himself. This was a risk that was almost certainly going to pan out in his favor because Remy was just as enamoured with Virgil as Virgil was with them. He would have to consult Ro first, get their expertise and advice on the matter. Logan preferred not to mess with romance. It was outside his realm of desires. As such, he had no idea what steps to take to help Virgil along with it. But he would, regardless.

Once they arrived at the restaurant, Logan was surprised to see they’d been beaten there. By none other than Nate himself. He was known for being chronically late to literally everything he attended, if he showed up at all—and Logan does mean literally. He had never, in all his time, known Nate to be anything other than late (fashionably, as Remy would insist, but what is fashionable about not respecting another’s time?)

“Hey, bro, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show up,” Nate said, following the Sanders into the restaurant. Logan snorted.

“And I thought your M.O. was to never show up on time, simply to prove you did not have to. Has that changed or is this an anomaly to be discounted when making plans with you in the future?”

Nate smirked, leaning in a little closer to Logan as they waited for the wait staff to bring them back to the party room. “An anomaly, an exception. Who can say? Maybe I misread the time.”

“Or maybe you’re an ass,” Virgil said, shoulder-checking Nate as he walked by. Logan coughed over a laugh and tried to look sympathetic as Nate stared after him, affronted.

“What did I ever do to earn your brother’s ire?”

Resisting the urge to be outwardly impressed with Nate’s choice in diction (he’d been told it was sometimes a rather condescending thing to do), he said, “It’s how he shows love.” Then Logan hooked his fingers through Nate’s sleeve and pulled him along. It took longer than was strictly necessary for Logan to let go, but there were very few people in the world whom Logan would willingly come into prolonged physical contact (or, really, any kind of contact, but physical especially) with, and Logan had never been one to entirely forgo the things he enjoyed without ample reason.

“Oh, like a cat,” Nate said. Virgil turned around and hissed and Logan barely contained the laugh that threatened to escape at Nate’s horrified expression.

“No, not like a cat,” he choked out, adjusting his glasses for Composure™. “Cats are actually very loving creatures. It is merely a matter of understanding their ways of expressing love and reciprocating so that they understand you also love them.”

“Oh, really?” Nate said. He pulled Logan’s chair out without hesitating and took the seat next to him. “How do cats show love, then?”

“You don’t even like cats,” Logan said, leveling his best deadpan look on Nate. He was unaffected, however, and just raised an eyebrow right back.

“Humor me.”

Logan snorted and shook his head, but obligingly opened his mouth. “Well, when a cat bends its tail…”

~~~~~~~

Hours later—or at least, it felt like hours to Logan’s exhausted brain—they finally brought out the dessert. Dessert meant that the event was almost over, and that meant it was almost time for Logan to collapse into his bed and make his plans for tomorrow.

Plans that would likely include driving somewhere (just because he could) to pick up something that he would need, as well as most likely taking Dee along with him because Dee loved car rides and always woke up nearly as early as Logan did.

So, while Logan was not particularly excited about dessert, he did help himself to a cupcake and had to wipe some of the chocolate icing off Nate’s face when he was too enthusiastic with his endeavour to eat it in one bite. (On a dare from Remy, no less, which should not have surprised Logan in the least.)

Currently, however, Virgil was ensconced in a conversation with Remy that was taking his entire focus, Percy and Nate were going head-to-head to see who could eat more cupcakes the quickest (the benefit of having a baker for a dad: unlimited dessert. Even when it was an ill-formed idea), Linda was trying to dissuade them (something Logan knew was futile from _so much_ personal experience), and Corbin and Sloane were barely shy of making-out. With everyone that Logan was worried about or responsible for taken care of, Logan felt content and confident in taking his leave.

He stole out the front of the restaurant, slipping down to sit on a conveniently-placed bench before anyone noticed him moving. It had been a very long day, and while Logan had enjoyed his conversations Nate and Corbin and Virgil and all the congratulations and attention that he and Virgil were being given, he was very tired. A quick break now, and then he’d be able to stomach another cupcake or two before it was time to leave.

The day had been good, and Logan could not have been happier with the outcome.

He was still resting on the bench when a presence settled in beside him. “Are you asleep?” asked a young voice, and Logan cracked a smile.

“Not at all, little snake.” Logan opened his eyes and looked at his younger brother (he’d never had one of those before, and even now the thought made him feel impossibly brighter. Being an older brother, he decided, was a good thing. The thought of the responsibility had been nerve wracking at first, but now Logan could not be convinced to trade it for anything.) “What do you need?”

“I brought chess,” Dee said by way of explanation. He unfolded the board between them and pulled the bag of pieces out. “You said you’d practice with me, and I thought you might want to now since, ya know, you don’t always like loud people so much.” Dee looked up at him big, hopefully eyes and it was suddenly a struggle for Logan to not have to wipe his eyes.

“Of course,” Logan said, and he reached out to ruffle Dee’s hair the way Ro always did to Logan himself. Dee beamed up at him, one lower canine missing from an unfortunate incident regarding a swing set and a badly positioned seesaw. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Yesssss,” Dee hissed, up-ending the bag onto the board and watching as the pieces scattered. Logan laughed brightly, resisting the urge to ruffle Dee’s hair again and righting the pieces.

“Do you remember where they go?” Logan asked.

“Chad, Brooke, Charlie, Lilah, John, Charlie the second, Brooke the second, and Chad the second,” Dee said, nudging each piece into its correct place.

“My next question was going to be if you remembered their names, but I suppose that answers that question,” Logan muttered, even though that really did not answer any such question. “What about these guys?” He held up a pawn, the only pieces Dee had not yet put in their proper places.

“Well,” Dee said, barely glancing up, “they all look the same so I just call them the Dudes.” Logan internalized his groan. These antics were probably urged by the combined efforts of Ro and Virgil, though it is something Dad would do, too, because he always said you remembered things better if you gave them names.

Still, it would not fly if Dee wanted to join the chess club at school, like he’d been talking about, and even doing professional competitions. As cute as naming the pieces was, he would have to know their official titles.

But...well, that was something they could work on next time.

“In what directions can the Dudes move?” Logan asked.

“Forward,” Dee said confidently. Then, more hesitantly, “And only one square. But the first one gets a double jump?”

“Very good,” Logan said, and he moved one of his pawns two squares forward. “Which piece in the back row can move _over_ the first row?”

“Is it Charlie?” Dee asked.

“No, but good guess. It’s the Knight. Uhm, I believe you named them Brooke.” Logan pointed to Dee’s horse head piece, and Dee picked up. “Do you know why they can do that?”

“No.”

“It’s because they are horses, and that means they can jump right over the pawn-the Dudes’ heads.” Logan corrected himself quickly, pointing to the two squares on the board that Dee’s knight could go to. Dee giggled, jumping the horse over the pawns and neighing, landing it in the righter space of the two possibilities.

“Interesting,” Logan said, stroking a pretend beard. Dee giggled and Logan moved another pawn into position. Dee poked his tongue through the hole in his teeth while he contemplated the board. Eventually, he scooted a pawn forward to sit next to his knight. He was too new to know any strategy of the game, but Logan couldn’t help but imagine that Dee knew exactly what he was doing, with that cute little concentrating look on his face, and that he had a plan.

Though, it probably would not just be imagining for too much longer. It was no secret that Dee was extremely intelligent. It was only a matter of time before he was figuratively kicking Logan’s butt every game they played.

Logan would be willing to bet that time would come sooner rather than later. He couldn’t wait to see it.

~~~~~~~

Approximately two hours later saw Logan and Dee entering their fourth game of chess. Logan was focusing much harder now than he had been before. Dee had managed to take out half Logan’s pieces _at least_ in their first two games - partly because Logan was going easy on him and still trying to teach him - but in the third game, either by some over-sight on Logan’s part or because Dee somehow did know some chess strategy, he had taken Logan’s Queen, or Lilah as Dee preferred, and had very nearly beat Logan.

“Have you been researching this?” Logan asked, allowing Dee the first move.

“Nah,” Dee said, scrunching his face up before moving one of his knights. “Why? Am I doing good?”

“Good?” Logan asked, and he was faintly aware that he was incredulous in the best possible way. “Dee, you are doing phenomenally.”

“Awesome,” Dee said, sounding just as excited about the game as he did when he asked for Sour Patch Kids at the store. He paused before asking, “Is it supposed to be hard? It just kinda makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“For some people, it does. For most people it is a very hard game that takes years of practice.” Logan moved his piece in counterpoint to Dee’s.

“Huh,” said Dee. “Well, that’s weird.” He didn’t say anything else, and neither did Logan, and Logan played the first game of chess in years in which he almost lost not once, but twice. It was an entirely unique experience.

People Logan recognized started pouring out of the restaurant, and Logan realized that they had spent for more time outside than he had intended to. He helped Dee pack up all the pieces and find the rest of their family still inside the building.

“Hey, Lo! I was beginning to think you ran off,” Dad said, wrapping his arm around Logan’s shoulders briefly.

“I think Dee should join the chess club,” Logan said with no preamble. Dad blinked, confused, but then he shrugged amicably.

“That would be great! As long as he still wants to when school starts up next year, there’s not any reason he shouldn’t.” He grabbed one of the empty cupcake boxes off the table and tossed it into a trash bin. “Anything in particular bring this up?”

“Well,” Logan said, helping to collect the trash. Sure, the staff could clean it all up, but they had all worked the bakery with Dad at one point or another. It was always a little pick-me-up when the patrons helped out. “We were outside playing and-”

“I almost beat Lo!” Dee exclaimed, jumping at Dad. Dee was swung up and around, onto his back, and Dad laughed.

“That’s really impressive, Dee,” Dad said. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah!”

“Hey,” said a voice at his shoulder. Logan spun around, startled, and came face-to-face with Nate. “Where’d you run off to?”

“I was, uhm, outside. With Dee.” Logan very suddenly felt short of breath, noticing the dimple on Nate’s face when he smirked. “We were playing chess and got caught up.”

Nate hummed in response. “Did you enjoy your graduation?”

“Yeah, I did. I am exhausted, though.” Logan wondered, briefly, if this is how Virgil felt around Remy. He wondered if, perhaps, he was not in fact aromantic, but maybe something more like…

Demiromantic.

What an unfortunate time to realize he was crushing on his best friend.

“Here, I got you this.” Nate pulled a little box out of his pocket and offered it to Logan. Logan was hesitant to take it - with his rather suddenly realized feelings and absolutely no advice asked of anyone more knowledgeable about the subject, he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

“Uh, thank you,” Logan said. He took the box.

“Wait til you get home to open it?” Nate asked. Logan nodded mutely and stuffed the box into his own pocket. “Cool. Text ya later, nerd boy.” He punched Logan’s arm before walking, slowly, out of the room. Logan watched him go, conflicted. He was not, generally, one to hide his feelings. He would have to confess soon because if not, he would act unbelievably strange around Nate from then on. It would be enjoyable for no one. But for now he was better off waiting to get advice before making any definitive choices.

“What is _up_ with people in leather jackets? Virgil, you. It must be something in the air,” Ro said, appearing next to Logan. Logan coughed over his spluttering while Ro laughed. “Anygay, we’re leaving too. Come on.” He grabbed Logan’s hand and dragged him to the car. It was so reminiscent of exactly what Ro had done to him earlier that Logan felt as though he were experiencing deja vu but in reverse.

You know, if that were a thing that could happen.

The ride home was quiet and Logan excused himself to his room immediately. He was not at all surprised when, no more than thirty minutes later, Virgil opened his door a crack, entered, closed it, and then flopped onto his bed soundlessly. In the dark room, wearing their pajamas, it was easy to pretend that they were both back to being six years old and sharing a room.

“It has been a day,” Virgil said, voice tired but light.

“Most are,” Logan said, and Virgil tossed his hand at Logan in a half-hearted slap. It landed on his face and they both just left it there.

“You know what I mean,” he said.

“Yeah,” Logan sighed. “It was good, though. Productive.”

“You can just say you’re happy.”

“I am ecstatic and also exhausted.”

“Fair enough. I feel ya. What’s the first thing you want to do with our new-found freedoms and diplomas?” Virgil’s fingers began tapping a rhythm into Logan’s face, soft and soothing.

“Store. Buy things I don’t need. Learn more about chess.”

“You have weird priorities, Lo.”

“What are you going to do, then?”

“Sleep in until noon, regret my decisions, and then, possibly something crazy. Something beyond insane. Something absolutely-”

“Are you going to hang out with Remy?”

“Maybe.” Virgil shrugged, shifting Logan slightly. “We’ll see what kinds of dreams I have.” They stayed quiet for a few minutes, Logan wondering what Virgil’s dreams had to do with anything.

“I like Nate,” he said. “In the same way I believe you like Remy.” There was a breath of silence before Virgil responded that very nearly made Logan’s head explode.

“First of all, rude and incorrect. Second of all, demi?”

“I think so. I’m not sure. I’ll have to look into it more.”

“There’s nothing wrong with changing your identity,” Virgil said quietly. “I thought I was gay for years before I realized I was actually pan and just had a lot of stuff about myself to figure out.” He paused, and Logan felt a tension he had not even realized was carrying leave his shoulders. “And, if you don’t want to, there’s no reason you even have to label it. You can just like who you like and leave it at that. Plus, now that you do like someone, I get exclusive rights to make you suffer.”

“Shut up.” Logan laughed. “Thank you, Virgil. That was...immensely helpful. But do not think this means we will not be talking about Remy.” Logan scooted slightly closer to the wall, allowing Virgil enough room to actually be fully on the bed. “Oh. I just remembered that Nate gave me a present. Could you grab my jeans?”

Virgil reached to the ground and found Logan’s pants, pulling the box out of the pocket and tossing it to him. “That all?”

“Yes.” Logan felt the box, weighing it in his hands.

“Come on,” Virgiled whined, “open it. I wanna see what’s inside.”

“Mind your own business,” Logan said, just a touch petulant, but went ahead and opened the box by his phone light anyway. Inside there was a chewable necklace—something Logan had been meaning to get for quite a while. He had a nasty habit of chewing whatever was near him when he was working or thinking—and a slip of paper. Logan did not bother to bite back his smile at the gift as he slipped it on and unfolded the paper.

_Logan,_

_Me and you could go out to the festival Friday night if you want. Meet you there at six._

_Call it a date?_

Logan did not squee when he read those words, but perhaps a sound somewhere in the neighborhood did come out of his mouth. Immediately he started chewing his necklace (convenient) and smacked at Virgil’s arm. Virgil laughed.

“Ro can help you get ready for your date,” he said. “But you should probably text Nate to let him know you accept.”

“Yes, yes you are absolutely correct.” Logan whipped out his phone, but then paused. “Is there not some form of texting etiquette? To not respond too soon so you don’t seem clingy?”

“I’ve never gotten that stuff,” Virgil said. “You like him, he likes you. You want him to know that, so why pretend to be disinterested? I don’t know. Respond whenever you want. As long as it’s coming from you, I doubt it’ll matter.”

“Okay,” Logan muttered, already quickly texting Nate that Friday sounded like a wonderful idea and that he absolutely could not wait.

“Well,” Virgil said, “now that our emotional shit is taken care of.” He yawned and stretched his arms above his head, repositioning himself slightly. “Night, L.”

“You better go out with Remy,” Logan said.

“Stop meddling.”

“God themself literally could not make me. Night, V. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Logan fell asleep, and while he could not speak to the quality of Virgil’s dreams, his left him refreshed and excited the next morning.


	12. Birds In Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Virgil and Logan to find their own ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is late. Yikes, man. The state of the world just,,, murdered me, ya know?
> 
> I hope you like the grand finale.

Ages: 19, 23, & 13

~~~~~

Virgil sat on his bed, staring at the walls he’d been decorating since he was ten years old and couldn’t draw nearly as well as he thought he could. He didn’t know how he was supposed to be able to sleep anywhere else. In a room where he didn’t know the location and cause of every chip in the paint, every dent in the wall, and every door that was made specifically for them, how would Virgil live?

In a room where he didn’t have his brother next door, just a knock away, how was Virgil supposed to  _ exist _ ?

He shoved an additional sketchbook into the ‘Staying’ pile and tried not to think about it.

Trying not to think about it. That had become an unnervingly common coping mechanism lately. He tried not to think about that, too.

He was not doing a very good job of either.

Currently, it is taking his whole concentration simply to focus enough into choosing what stays and what goes. Virgil, suddenly, had become aware that he  _ also _ wanted to stay and while that could be the anxiety talking (or the insomnia, he hasn’t slept in  _ days _ ) it could also be that he genuinely rushed into this and didn’t really think about what he wanted, just what Logan was going to do regardless.

Did Virgil want college or was he chasing his brother? Did it matter?

This time it’s a book he threw into the ‘Staying’ pile. He glared at the expanding menagerie of his belongings and his life and then added a random paint brush to it. He didn’t know where it came from, where the rest of its set was. It was raggedy and broken and lost and should probably go in the trash, much like Virgil himself.

Well, he’s not raggedy, but he was a little broken and a lot lost and he didn’t just go  _ in _ the trash, Virgil  _ was _ the trash. He’s like the star of the whole damn show.

Virgil stopped that line of thinking by chucking an entire box of sharpies onto his bed and then watching in resignation as it bounced onto the floor and spilled its guts everywhere.

He crouched down on the floor and began to painstakingly recollect all the markers. His hands were shaking, annoying, and his heart was racing, rude, where was it even trying to go?, and he couldn’t seem to not think about the things he’d been trying to not think about for days. Why was his entire body turning against him like some sort of crappy hypnosis?

What if this was a mistake? What if he shouldn’t leave? What if something bad happened to Dad while he was gone? What if something bad happened to Logan if he didn’t go? Someone could die and-

Of course, it was ridiculous to think that he was the only thing standing between his family and utter ruin. Virgil knew that. But the thoughts in his head were like a vortex that had had enough of being contained. They pulled him into the spiral even though he knew it wasn’t rational, and Virgil, for the life of him, couldn’t seem to find a way to pull himself back out.

“V?” Dee asked, slipping into his room. He was holding what looked like a kite. Virgil didn’t know. He didn’t think he’d ever flown a kite. Nothing made any sense. Was he even breathing right?

“Yeah, kid?”

“Do you wanna come play? Ro said they’d come outside with us.”

“Uh,” Virgil said, and coughed.

“Are you sick? Dad won’t let you go outside if you’re sick.” Dee looked up at Virgil, worried, and stepped farther into the room. He put his hand—still so little and  _ fragile _ —on Virgil’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”

“I’m not sick,” Virgil said. “I just feel kind of funky.”

“Oh,” Dee said. He paused. “Do you not want to come outside?”

“Maybe, uh, not-not today. Sorry.” Dee shrugged and took a small step back, still staring at Virgil. He turned to go, but hesitated.

“Is it your anxiety?” he asked quietly. Then, all in a rush, “You told me it can make you feel really bad and Dad said sometimes it helps to be around people. So that you’re not stuck.”

“I don’t know…” he started, but he felt like a huge piece of shit for turning Dee down already, and it  _ could _ help, even if he was pretty sure it wouldn’t.

“You can come back inside if you want.” Dee straightened his back when Virgil didn’t respond right away. “We’re going outside. Come on.” He walked across the room and grabbed Virgil’s hand, dragging him along. The scattered box of sharpies lay on his floor, forgotten.

“Did you forcibly remove him from his room?” Ro asked, squinting at Virgil. Virgil was also squinting, trying to not cry from how bright the sun was compared to the lamps in his room.

“No,” Dee said, passing the kite to Ro. He didn’t say anything else, and Ro snorted.

“Whatever you say, little Prince,” they said and began to unwind the string of the kite.

Virgil’s hair, long as it was, flapped around his face in the wind and whipped into his eyes. He wrestled it back into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way, and then, when neither Ro nor Dee seemed to need his help immediately, he laid down in the grass and stared up at the sky, the warmth of the sun sinking into his skin. He hadn’t felt quite so comfortable in weeks.

~~~~~

Virgil woke up on the couch in the living room. Logan was sitting at the opposite end reading a book and twirling a coin over his fingers. He glanced up when Virgil shifted and blinked when he saw Virgil’s eyes were open.

“Finally awake?”

“Hhhuhg,” Virgil groaned, rolling to press his face into the pillow and not have to face the world.

“It’s two a.m.,” Logan informed him. “You slept from one o’clock this afternoon until now, and Remy texted you so much I had to put your phone on silent and text them to stop because you were sleeping. Dad made pasta for dinner but didn’t want to wake you up because none of us knew the last time you actually slept. There is a bowl in the microwave for you. Oh, and Dee said you were ‘anxiety-ing’ and needed to be around people.”

“Hhhuhg,” Virgil repeated. “Eh fiihhhn.”

“I am afraid I do not speak Neanderthal,” Logan said. “You will have to translate for me.”

“I am tired,” Virgil enunciated slowly, lifting his head off the pillow, “I am fine, I want sleep.”

“Well, seeing as that’s unlikely, why don’t we talk instead. Here, allow me to get you some food.” Logan placed the coin in his book and set it carefully on the couch cushion and then walked into the kitchen. The sound of the microwave working met Virgil’s ears, and then Logan returned with a bowl and a fork. “Eat,” he said. Virgil took the bowl and sat up.

“You have to put the food in your mouth to eat it,” Logan said, picking his book back up. But instead of opening it, he put it on the table and pulled his legs onto the couch and faced Virgil.

“What?” Virgil muttered, eyes drooping shut. Logan cleared his throat and Virgil sighed, forcing himself to look up.

“You are experiencing anxiety heightened from its usual state?” he asked. Virgil shrugged. “Virgil, please answer the question. It is important to me and also the rest of our family that we know when you are not doing well and can do everything possible to help you.”

“Yeah, there’s more anxiety,” Virgil admitted. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m fine.”

It was a half-truth, and they both knew it. Virgil didn’t know what he was doing, but he definitely wasn’t handling it. He was only struggling. But he didn’t know what to do about that.

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Logan asked.

Virgil knew if he outright lied to Logan, he’d know immediately. He also knew that he couldn’t bring up the real cause of his anxiety because Logan might feel responsible or tell Dad or change his plans on account of Virgil being an over-thinking and under-thinking dumbass at the same time.

“How are you and Nate doing?” he asked, deciding that totally changing the subject was the only logical course of action.

“We’re doing very good. You’re avoiding my question.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to think about it, Logan,” Virgil snapped. “Did you ever think of that?”

“Mhm,” Logan said. “Because not thinking about something has never backfired and made a situation worse before.”

“You can be a real asshole, you know that?” Virgil said. He glared at Logan, but very quickly lost the energy to stay mad and rested his elbows on his knees, bowing his head. His hair, slowly escaping from it’s prison, tickled his face and neck.

“Sometimes brutal honesty is a necessary evil. You know that as well as I do. You should not let whatever is bothering you fester like an infection that went untreated. Tell me what is wrong so that we can work on fixing it.”

“I-” Virgil started, angry, and then he hesitated. “I don’t-I don’t know.”

“You do not know what is causing you distress?” Logan asked, gentler now.

“No,” Virgil breathed. Because he knew very well where the problem lay.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what I-what I, what I, uh, want. I don’t know what I as me wants to do. Not I as us, not I as our family. I as me, just as me. I don’t know, L. I don’t know what to do.” There were tears in Virgil’s eyes and he was so tired he couldn’t even be bothered to care that he was about to start crying.

“V,” Logan said softly, and he put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder blade. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know.”

“Yeah, but-but we’re going to leave for, for the, uh-”

“College.”

“-that in a week. College is starting, and we paid to get in and we’re both going, but what if something bad happens to them,” Virgil jerked his head toward the bedrooms, “while we’re gone? What if I don’t go and something happens to you? What if-what if I do go and end up thousands of dollars in debt and hate every second of it and regret the next four years of my life? What then, Logan? What do I do then? I don’t know what to do. I don’t like school, but this made sense but now I don’t-I don’t-”

“Take a deep breath,” Logan instructed, demonstrating himself. He led Virgil through all his breathing exercises and naming things he could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste. By the end, though still shaking, Virgil felt marginally better.

“Sorry,” he said.

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Logan said immediately. “This is big and it is important to think through everything before you make a decision.” He leaned back on the couch, observing Virgil from a slight distance. “You do not have to go to college.”

“But-”

“No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” he said. “You do not have to go to college. If you do not want to, you do not have to. Even if you are only unsure about if you want to, you do not have to. You can, if you like, go for a week and if you end up hating it, leave. There is nothing binding you to it, Virgil. And if, in a few years, or maybe in ten or twenty, you decide you want to try college, you can. This is not an irreversible decision.” He came closer again, leaning his side into Virgil’s. “You do not need to be worried about me. I will be fine. You do not need to worry about Dad, either. He has fended for himself for decades before we butted in with our two cents. Ro has been mostly taking care of themself for years and is about to get an apartment of their own. Dee still has Dad looking out for him. Everyone is taken care of, Virgil. You do not need to worry about if they will be okay if you leave, or if they will approve of your decision. They love you. They will keep loving you. You need to make this decision for yourself. Not for us.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Virgil said, voice small. “I don’t know if I can exist without you, or my-my shitty art on the walls, and Dee bursting into my room whenever he wants, and Ro being so fucking obnoxious all the time with their singing, and Dad trying to sell us on syrup being a drink. I don’t know how to, how to-stop being part of, of-” Virgil waved a hand, aggravated.

“A family?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, “that.”

“So you want to go off by yourself?” he asked.

“What?! No, when did I-?” But Virgil stopped himself because somehow, now that he was thinking about it, he realized it was true. He wanted to go out and see things. He wanted to travel. He wanted to know what the world was. And he wanted to know for himself.

“The good news is,” Logan said, “you don’t have to learn to not be part of a family. You will never stop being part of this family, no matter what you do. You will never have to learn to function without us entirely. We are all a phone call away at most.” He smiled at Virgil. “The other good news is, there is no reason you cannot go off as just you, by yourself, and see what the world has to offer. There is nothing stopping you.”

“Money,” Virgil said.

“You have been saving all your holiday and birthday money for years. And Dad said that if any of us decided not to go to college, he’d give us half of our college fund and put the rest toward a vacation.”

“Transportation.”

“Ro just got a new car because they didn’t like the one they had. I am sure they would not mind allowing you to have it.”

“I don’t know how anything in the world works.”

“Then go out and learn it,” Logan said, like it was really just that easy. “Most people, I have found, do not know what they are doing, Virgil. Dad doesn’t. Ro certainly doesn’t. None of our friends do, and you saw how often our teachers would make up lesson plans as they were teaching. I think a part of being human is not knowing what is going on.”

“What about you?”

“I have a short term plan.” Logan shrugged. “I want to be a chemical engineer, so I will go to college for my degree. But I will have to figure out where my classes are, what kinds of teachers I have, what to do with myself when I am bored without my siblings around to annoy me, how to live with a roommate I have never met before, how to remember to do my laundry and take showers without constantly being reminded, how to keep in contact with Nate without getting to see him in person for weeks at a time. It is a learning curve. You are not the only one learning.”

“What if Remy and I can’t do that whole long distance thing?” he said, but it was a weak rebuttal. Virgil was searching for excuses, and Logan knew it. Even if the thought of leaving Remy behind hurt more than he would like to admit. Unlike the rest of his family, Virgil couldn’t just hope Remy would wait for him to come back.

“You will figure it out.” Logan paused. “Remy is not going to college, either. It is entirely possible they may desire to join you.”

“That’s insane,” Virgil said. “Who would just up and do something like that?”

“You would,” Logan said. “And you will not know for sure what they will say unless you ask them.”

“Huh,” Virgil said. He hesitated. “Are you sure? That this won’t come back to bite me in the ass?”

“I have no idea,” Logan said. “You may regret it. But this is what you want to do now, and if ever you change your mind, you can come back home. You can try something else. You have an entire life ahead of you to try things. I would not worry too much about it.”

“Why do you know so much?” Virgil groused, but it wasn’t a real complaint. He felt relieved and relaxed and kind of stupid now that everything had been so clearly laid out for him.

“You’re just jealous,” Logan said, and he grinned brightly at Virgil before yawning.

“Alright, you need to go to bed. When’s the last time you stayed up until three in the morning?” Virgil asked, grabbing Logan’s elbow to pull them both up.

“Didn’t want you to be out here by yourself,” Logan mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and almost knocked his glasses onto the floor.

“The speed you fall asleep is amazing,” Vigil said, more to himself than to Logan, as he guided him up the stairs and into his own room. Logan was completely out before his head hit the pillow.

~~~~~

One Week Later

Virgil threw his last bag into the trunk and slammed it shut. Remy leaned against the side of the car, watching the sky. They turned to Virgil and grinned.

“Excited?”

“Something like that,” Virgil said, leaning in and kissing Remy quickly. “Just gotta say goodbye.”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” they said. “But I’ll let you handle that on your own.” They slid into the passenger seat and pulled out their phone. Virgil took a deep breath and walked up the driveway.

“Are you sure you have all of your things?” Logan asked, hands fluttering through the air like nervous hummingbirds. Virgil nodded.

“Do you?”

“Yes, though I fear that Dee or Dad may start hiding them in the house to prevent me from leaving.”

“They’re driving you down,” Virgil said. “I think you should probably be more worried about them bringing some of it back here so that you have to come back to get it.”

“Oh god, don’t say that. You’ll speak it into existence.” Logan groaned, collapsing against Virgil. He snorted and shoved Logan away, heading into the house. Logan followed him.

They found Dad, Roman, and Dee in the kitchen, making something. Virgil and Logan had not been allowed in the kitchen for the last few days. It made Virgil nostalgic and they hadn’t even left yet.

They’d been preparing for this for a week. After Virgil’s late night realization about what he wanted to do, he had told everyone else. Plans had changed, and nobody was mad, and now Logan and Virgil would be leaving the house at the same time but with different destinations.

Logan was bound for a college in the next state over whereas Virgil and Remy were going to begin their cross-country roadtrip heading West, toward California. They had money and food and not a clue what they were doing.

Virgil had almost never been so excited in his life.

Dad squealed when he saw them and rushed over, grabbing them up in a giant hug. He’d been giving even more hugs lately, as though they were going to leave forever. Virgil couldn’t particularly bring himself to care.

“My boys!” he cried. “Leaving! We better hurry and get everything packed up!” They quickly gathered up all of the food they had baked and then, with what looked like enough pastries to feed an army, the three marched out the door. Virgil shared an exasperated look with Logan as they followed.

Virgil and Logan watched as their Dad and brothers split all the food in half between the two cars and carefully stacked it in the backseats.

“They act like we’re never coming back,” Virgil said.

“We are the first to leave home.” Logan shrugged. “And Dad has more love than he knows what to do with. They’ll miss us.”

“I think they can handle it,” Virgil said.

Dad was teary-eyed and sniffling when he came back over to them.

“Everything’s all packed up,” he said. “So I guess we’re ready to go our separate ways. I’m quite fondue you two, so you better make time to visit, alright?” Virgil laughed and they both nodded.

“I’ll come back so often you’ll get tired of seeing me,” Virgil promised. “And we’ll facetime.”

“You better. And no getting into truffle while you’re off adventuring.” He hugged Virgil so tightly he couldn’t breathe and after a long, long time, pulled back. “Be safe, kiddo.”

“I will,” Virgil said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Virge.”

Dad moved back to let Ro and Dee tackle him in a hug. Virgil laughed, squeezing them both.

“You have to get me rocks from everywhere you go,” Dee told him.

“And Dad and I want pictures of  _ everything _ ,” Roman said.

“Can do.” Roman reached over and ruffled his hair. Virgil swatted his hand away, glaring.

“Calm down, Panic! at the Disco. I won’t get to do it again for  _ forever _ , I gotta make up for it now.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Love you guys.” They echoed the sentiment and, if Virgil didn’t know better, he’d say there were tears in Ro’s eyes.

“Well, we better get going. Don’t want to be late or anything.” Roman rolled his eyes and walked back to the car. Virgil looked at Logan.

“This is totally weird,” they said together. They both smiled.

“If you need anything, call me. I’ll be there in a day, tops,” Virgil said.

“Likewise. And should you happen to find yourself bored and in want of company, my dorm is always open.”

“Love you, L.”

“Love you, V.”

Virgil hugged Logan, long and hard. There were tears in Logan’s eyes when they pulled away.

“Keep that up and you’ll be just as bad as Dad,” Virgil teased. Logan snorted and swiped a hand over his eyes.

“No driving while you’re sleep deprived.”

“No promises,” Virgil said. Logan shook his head. “Oh, and I need you to do something for me.” Virgil dug a cadbury egg out of his pocket and handed it to Logan. “When it’s time for Dad to head back home, give this to him and tell him that he can’t cadbury his head in the sand, we’re coming back.”

“You are hopeless.”

“Nah, I’m a genius.”

“Perhaps you are. You better have some interesting facts to tell me when you come back.”

“Obviously,” Virgil said. And then he went to his car and got in. He watched in the mirror until Dad’s car was out of sight and then turned his key in the ignition.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Babes, do you even have to ask?” Remy said, pulling down their sunglasses. “I’ve always wanted to go on an adventure.”

“Adventure,” Virgil said. “I like that. We’re adventurers, braving the West.”

“Let’s do this. I have all the sunglasses I need and your Dad loaded us up with enough food to last us a year. We’re set.”

“Let’s do it,” Virgil muttered, and when he pulled out of the driveway, he had no idea where they were going. But he was excited to see what they would encounter along the way.


End file.
